#like a lot of prompt lists i was stuck between

[cephalopaints]

doodled my sona as red son as bc of a joke (thats not really much of a joke now but this was made a lil while ago. so)

[cupcakeslushie]

Is Donnie in love with Kendra? Or at least he think he should be? Sorry that one fic that sorta ends with him worshipping her got stuck in my brain but I know its not canon

Donnie sees Kendra as his entire world at the moment. She’s the only positive feedback he gets, and even when she’s slightly disappointed in his performance, it’s heartbreaking for him. He might not be in love with her, or even know the difference between love and his obsessive worship. But when she uses physical touch as a reward, it feels amazing. When she’s unhappy with him, he doesn’t spiral if he can fix it right away, which is usually the case, even if he has to push past his own discomfort or needs.

Kendra uses Donnie’s brothers against him all the time. Asking if Donnie thinks she’s being as mean as them, or why Donnie’s trying to pull away from her, when she’s so much nicer to him than they ever were. Ect.

She definitely enjoys the power trip more. The only reason she’s even so gentle with him, is because he’s so pathetically pliant and eager to follow her every whim.

I came up with this from a prompt from the febuwhump list, and idk I just like fucked up angst, and it seems like enough people do too, so Ive kept feeding it 😂 As crazy as it sounds, it’s probably my most grounded AU just because I have known a lot of manipulative people. So writing Kendra’s dialogue is an interesting exercise in getting it realistic and not too mustache twirling.

They work out of an abandoned warehouse. Donnie stays there, and usually, at least one of the dragons is present. Kendra and Jeremy live there, while Jason spends his time going back and forth, not being as eager to move away from home as Kendra was.

When he’s not doing anything specific for Kendra, Donatello follows whoever around like a little puppy—too scared to really talk much, but also unable to be alone with his negative thoughts. Jeremy and Jace try to act nonchalant, but it’s off putting—having a little creture that was once their enemy, moving in their peripherals constantly.

[hxt1b]

Hiii can you write some dirty af toji neighbours kind of thing? They don't really stand each other, then something happens idk she loses her keys or something, ends up at his place. Doesn't have to be long, he just needs to fuck her brains out

Art credit: arekushisu_11. Gotten off Pinterest. 

"you make me a maniac"

toji x afab reader  

-> CW: you dont really hate him, deep inside your just horny for him, pwp, smut warning [dubcon kinda, mean toji, a lot of taunting, degradation, fingering, spitting, throat fucking, unprotected sex - don't do what they did, overstimulation, choking] 

-> WC: 2.1k 

masterlist | prompt list 

A/N: I think this is a bit unhinged, writing wise, I hope its okay though. 

Your breath hitched as your back slammed against the wall. 

"You need my help," he said harshly a breath away from your lips, "you can stop acting like a bitch." 

"Get off of me." You answered shoving at his naked chest, he was fresh out of the shower only in sweats. 

"No, I don't think I will." His hand moved from the wall beside your head to your face, fingers trailing into your hair as his thumb rested at the corner of your mouth. 

"Toji." You breathed. Your voice was quiet as his thumb softly caressed your skin, causing tingles to spread across your lips. 

"I'm starting to think it's all an act. The angry glares, the insults, the judgement. I think you're a classic cliche. You fucking want me and you can't handle that so you're a bitch. If you really hated me, why would I be the first person you came to when you lost your keys? You don't have a friend? Family?" He paused, his eyes moving between yours. "I know you do sweetheart." 

You didn't say anything. The truth was you did hate him, but the way your body reacted to him when he was around was visceral, your skin would prickle, and your heart rate would pick up, a slow heat would creep on you. Your mind would be plagued by fantasies of him doing decrepit things to you, on the couch, the counter, the floor, the bed, the shower, and the wall. 

His words didn't sting, they heated your core. A moan was bubbling up your throat as he cocked his hips into yours. 

"I'm dead on aren't I?" He taunted. His tongue darted out and licked the corner of your mouth when you again stayed silent, your answer evident when you moved back against him, your hips chasing him, and the moan leaving through your lips in a breathy sigh. 

Toji's eyes flared, his mouth taking over yours in an insant, both his hands burying themselves into your hair as he pulled your face to his. The kiss was wet, his tongue pushing into your mouth without hesitation, he was brutal, rough, fingers pulling at your hair tilting your head up as he kissed you as hard as he could. The pressure of his mouth on yours was insane. He stepped back from the wall bending into you so your torso curved into his. 

"Fuck," he grunted pulling away to take a breath. You looked up at him dazed, still at a loss for words, he swore again before straightening out and pulling you to his living room. He pushed you onto the couch and quickly bent over your figure. You were sprawled out on your back, his hands pushed at your top pushing it up and taking the cups of your bra with it. He pushed the fabric over your head, leaving you like that so you couldn't see. 

His fingers pinched at your nipples pulling roughly causing you to moan from the pain, and your body squirmed. He stuck a thick thigh between yours, letting your grind into him as he groped your tits. 

"God," He groaned before taking one into his mouth. He sucked and bit while torturing the other one with his finger. 

You moaned loudly, your hands in his hair, his name leaving your lips between whines. 

"Please," You begged, when his fingers trailed down your torso, his breath on your wet nipple causing goose bumps to erupt all over. 

"You're a whore for me aren't you? You wanted this all along, didn't you?" He asked. His words teasing. He pushed your top up more so that your lips were exposed but your eyes covered. Then he yanked at your bra until it harshly ripped off. 

"You want me to touch you?" He asked. 

"Yes," You whined, your hips still jerking against his thigh. 

"Say you're a slut for me," he commanded. 

You moaned his fingers circling your lower stomach. 

"Fuck, I'm a slut for you." You whined, he laughed, his mouth close to yours his breath fanning over you. 

"Such a greedy bitch," he mumbled, "is your cunt gonna be just as greedy? Are you gonna open for my fingers easily, take two from the start?" 

You whined at his words your hips bucking up, your body begging for his hands to dip into your sweats already. 

You whined his name again, a plea. 

His fingers finally dipped into your waistband, his mouth back on yours as his fingers found your clit, he pushed on it. Causing you to buck into his hand and thigh, which was still between your legs. 

He dipped his finger lowers rubbing between your folds gathering your slick and bringing it back to your clit to rub rough circles. 

"Fuck you're wet." He groaned and repeated his actions, once twice, and then suddenly he was ignoring your clit, his fingers rubbing in between your folds, not pushing in or playing with your sensitive numb. 

You mewled your hands leaving his hair and clawing at his couch. 

"Fuck, Toji -" He interrupted your words by pushing two fingers into you, his fingers were thicker than yours and your lack of sex with another person in the last year made it so it was slightly painful. But he didn't stop at your harsh intake of breath, he pumped roughing, getting your essence on your underwear and all over his fingers. His other hand pulled at your hair again, angling your head so he could bite at the soft skin on your throat. 

"Greedy," he muttered before pushing another finger into you, your back arched up into him, your chest pressing into his. His teeth nipped at your lips the bites were harsh, your lips felt swollen and hurt from his treatment. 

"Cum." He demanded. You work your hips with his fingers, rocking with his hand. His tongue dipped into your mouth before dragging along your lips, your mouth staying open as his hand went faster. 

He spit in your mouth, before kissing you again. 

Your eyes squeezed, your mind going hazy from the intense heat creeping all over your body. The knot in your stomach tightened until it exploded, the sounds that were coming from you were loud and whiney. Your body bucking against Toji's all your thoughts scattered, you couldn't think of anything. You forgot where you were, only aware that Toji was working your clit with his thumb and his thick fingers were still fucking you mindless. Your moans turned to desperate whines as your body crumbled to the overstimulation. 

He ripped your shirt off your head, swiping it off your arms and throwing it onto the floor. 

"One more sweetheart." He said, his head lowering back down to your breasts, taking the sensitive skin into his mouth and sucking. 

You turned your head to the side, your fingers moving to his shoulders, digging into his naked skin. 

You mumbled something incoherent as the knot tightened again. Toji chuckled into your skin, you became wanton under him. 

"Already fucked dumb are we?" He asked, his tongue licking up the valley of your tits, up your neck and chin until his mouth was level with yours again. "So greedy, so slutty, and so desperate. That's you in a nutshell isn't it?" 

You breathed roughly, his fingers still wrecking your cunt, curling into your g-spot. 

"For you." You muttered. 

"For me." He mumbled back, your walls contracting around his fingers as you suddenly came again. Slowly his fingers, milking your orgasm with deep thrusts. "So noisy." He pulled his fingers from you, before sitting up. 

Panting you harshly swallowed, your eyes slowly opening, your mouth still hanging open as you looked up at him. Taking in the way your fingers had messed up his hair, the marks your nails had left on his shoulder. 

You shakily pushed up onto your arms as he got rid of his sweats and boxers, his cock swaying, heavy and thick the head dark red dotted with precum.

Your eyes drank him up, from the ridges of his abs to the thick veins on his cock. You swallow the spit gathering in your mouth at the sight, worried you'd genuinely drool at the sight of him. 

You scooted back, also taking off your sweats and panties and discarding them in the same direction as his before pushing onto your knees and reaching for him. He let you, your arms looped around his neck as you pushed your mouth to his and lightly kissed him. His hands came to rest on your waist, you trailed your kisses down his jaw and neck before sucking on the hot skin of his collarbone, biting and licking you went lower and lower, trailing your tongue between his abs, tasting his salty skin. 

"Fuck," he cursed gathering your hair in his fist as you gingerly took his cock into your hand and licked the tip. Your tongue dragging around the slit, you kitten licked his cock head before tilting your head and dragging your tongue down the side. He grumbled at your ministration his hands yanking at your hair forcing your head back, he took his cock in his hand and pressed the head to your mouth. You opened for him, your hands planting themselves on the couch. Now on all fours, he pushed his cock into your mouth, he didn't wait for you to suck his cock he simply started thrusting into your mouth, his thrusts harsher and harsher, as you gagged, the tip hitting the back of your throat your eyes water, drool gathering at your lips and dripping down. Your mouth stretched and stunging along his girth, one hand coming up to his thighs to get him to slow down. It didn't work. His head was tilted back, completely lost on fucking his cock down your throat. You whined, your eyes watering immensely, your mind drifting from not being able to breathe properly. 

Finally, he pulled out of you, his chest heaving with deep breaths as he looked down at your wrecked face. 

"Get on your back." 

Barely breathing, your body shaking ever so slightly you laid back down on the couch. Toji lowered himself over you, his cock dragging between your folds, and his finger drifting over your clit. 

"C-condom," You breathed. Toji grunted and simply pushed into you. 

You gasped, his body crowding over yours, his hand coming to rest on your throat, his head buried into the side of yours. 

"I'll buy you the morning-after pill." His hand applied a little pressure as he said that. 

Your cunt was spasming around his cock, the stretch of his cock burned, his thrusts were already too deep, you were barely able to breathe again, part from the ache in your lower belly, and part from his hand at your throat. 

"Such a dumb slut for my cock right now. Can you even think? I'm shocked you even thought of a condom." He taunted, his lips brushing your ear. 

He took your ear lobe into his mouth as he fucked you, his pelvis rubbing against your clit, your legs spread wide open, spasming because of him. 

Your hands gripped his back, fingers digging in again and you took everything he gave you. With each thrust he grew wilder, his hips bucking roughly into you, his hand tighter on your throat. You were going crazy under him, his weight adding to your insanity. 

"Fuck Toji," Your words scrambled after that, nonsense leaving your lips cut only by desperate moans. 

"I'm going to cum." Toji grunted, his thrusts not stopping as he pushed his upper body away from yours so that he was hovering over you, his head tiling down to look at where his cock was plunging in and out of you. You watched too. Body overheated, and shattering with each thrust. Your third orgasm erupted out of nowhere, your mouth dropping open in a soundless scream as you convulsed on his cock. 

He followed, shooting his load into you, his rhythm lost and pumping his cum into you, his head drooped low as his hips twitched into you. His cock head rubbing your g-spot still as he slowed. You continued to twitch under him, your body trying to curl away from him, but his hold on you, at your waist kept you in place.

"Fuck," he said when he pulled out. You could feel his cum drip out of you. Your eyes glued to his face, his eyes glued to your fluttering hole. 

"Keep it in baby." He said, and with his fingers pushed it all back in. 

"You better buy me that morning-after pill." You mumbled through your fucked out state. 

"And if I don't? You'll have my baby?" His eyebrow cocked up with his question. 

"Fuck you Toji," you said, wanting to get up and leave but your body to spent to move yet. 

"I'll buy it." He said, his hand trailing up your stomach as he lowered himself down to you again. "After I fuck you again." 

~hxt1b, Feb 20 2024

[flightlessangelwings]

Ktober 2023 Day 25- Mirror Sex

Tasm!Peter Parker x gn!reader

Word count- 1.1k

Warnings- s.mut (18+ ONLY!), softness, voyeurism, lot of praise, aftercare, established relationship, no use of y/n

Notes- Oh this was was so fun to write!! And it's another personal favorite of the month as well so I hope y'all like it too!! And I purposefully made it a gn reader too! Prompt list made by me! Enjoy!

@flightlessangelwings-updates is myupdate blog so please follow that too and turn on post notifs to stay up to date on my new fics!

~

“Open your eyes, sweetheart,” Peter’s voice echoed in your ear.

You sat in front of him, your legs parted as he knelt behind you, fucking into you slowly. Peter’s strong grip kept you upright, and you leaned back to feel the warmth and safety of his embrace. As your mouth dropped open from how good he felt rocking into you from this angle, your eyes fluttered shut and you lost yourself in the pleasure that was Peter’s touch.

A soft whimper escaped your lips as you reluctantly blinked your eyes open, but you gasped when you focused and noticed what he wanted you to see. You weren’t sure when he set it up, but a full length mirror sat at the end of the bed, and it framed where the two of you were perfectly. Even in the low light of the room, you saw both your figures clearly.

“That’s it,” he cooed as he thrust into you once, “Look at how beautiful you are.”

You moaned loudly and closed your eyes once more.

“Uh-uh,” Peter gently grabbed your chin and forced you to keep your line of sight on the mirror, “I want you to watch.”

“Peter…” you whined as you blinked your eyes open again. It didn’t go unnoticed that he didn’t move again until you did.

“See?” his tone was low as he kissed the side of your face, “Look how beautiful you are.”

You gasped when he thrust into you once, but harder this time. Your body almost jolted forward if it weren’t for Peter’s strong grip keeping you in place. As much as you wanted to close your eyes and enjoy the feeling of his cock inside you, you knew he would stop if you did. So, you kept them open and trained on his face as he watched you in the mirror.

“That’s it sweetheart,” Peter murmured as he rocked into you at a slow and steady pace.

Skin slapped against skin as both of you locked eyes in the mirror. From that though, you saw the fire that burned within his eyes with every thrust of his hips, and you felt the low mumble from deep in his chest against your back. You saw how his hair stuck to his forehead from the sweat and it only made him more beautiful to you. And then your eyes trailed down both your figures.

Between your legs, you could make out the distinct shape of his cock whenever he pulled out from you. And then it disappeared inside you when he thrust forward again, burying it deep inside you. The added visual made you moan louder as you clung to Peter’s arms.

He gritted his teeth as he felt you clench around him, and then Peter’s eyes followed yours. He watched for a few moments as his cock appeared and then disappeared with his thrusts. Then, he made a low, deep sound you had never heard from him ever before. And it sent a pulse of need right to your core.

“Fuck,” Peter breathed, “Look at us,” he thrust once more, “Look how you fit me so perfectly,” he thrust again, filling you to the brim.

“Yes,” you murmured as your eyes glazed over, “Peter.”

“Look how beautiful you look like this,” he caressed your chin where he still held you while his other arm stayed around your body to pin you against him, “Look how well you take my cock.”

“Oh fuck,” you moaned as a chill ran up your spine from Peter’s words.

“That’s it, sweetheart,” he cooed.

You dug your nails into his skin, “Peter… Yes…” you moaned, “So good, Pete… I…”

“What is it?” he trailed a line of hot, sweet kisses along your skin, “Tell me,” he said as he met your gaze in the mirror.

“You feel so good,” you whimpered, “And I love watching you fuck me like this.”

“That’s it,” he turned your chin to kiss your lips for a moment, pausing with his cock fully inside you to taste you before he turned you back to the mirror, “I want you to see what I see when I fuck you,” his tone dropped impossibly low, “I want you to fall apart and watch yourself in the mirror.”

“Oh shit,” you cried out as he suddenly picking up his pace, pounding into you with fervor, “Fuck! Peter! Yes!”

“That’s it,” he purred again as he grunted, holding back his own climax.

The look on Peter’s face when his jaw clenched made you let out the most obscene sound and you felt your body heat up and your skin tingle, “Fuck, Peter… You’re gonna make me cum.”

“Cum, sweetheart,” he groaned, “Cum for me.”

“Peter!” you screamed his name as you fought to keep your eyes open as your climax hit. You trembled in his grasp as you came hard, your mouth dropping open to let out all the sounds that Peter loved to hear.

“Beautiful,” he murmured as he watched your every expression in the mirror. He saved off his own orgasm for as long as he could, but from the way you looked so delectable in the mirror, he didn’t last long.

With a low groan of his own and your name on his lips, Peter came just as hard, His movements stuttered as he lost control as came deep inside you, filling you up. He too had to fight to keep his eyes open, not wanting to miss a second of the show the two of you put on for yourselves. Peter savored the gasp you let out as he filled you to the brim, and both of you exhaled sharply when you watched it drip down your legs.

A shiver ran up your spine as you felt both your releases slide down your skin, but you couldn’t move. You didn’t want to anyway, content in Peter’s strong grip. For a moment, neither of you could budge, both too entranced in the other’s eyes in the mirror. You still stayed connected together, and at the same time, your eyes both fell to that connection.

“That was so hot,” you breathed in awe.

Peter grinned widely and kissed your neck, “I told you to trust me,” he murmured in your ear, his eyes ever leaving yours.

“I do trust you, Pete,” you whispered as you broke the connection to turn and kiss him deeply, tasting him once more, “And I love you.”

He smiled against you, “I love you too, sweetheart,” he kissed the tip of your nose before he pulled away, “Let’s get you cleaned up, sweetheart.”

“You always take such good care of me, Peter,” you sighed contently before you let out a gasp as he slowly and carefully pulled out of you,

Peter shot you and apologetic look in the mirror before he gathered you in his arms again, collapsing both of you down onto the bed, “I always will, sweetheart,” he whispered, “I always will.” 

[petalsthefish]

“Just” Partners

Day 2 of Jily Week 2024 (hosts: @sunshinemarauder & @kay-elle-cee) with the prompt: partners

Read on A03

“Ugh, it’s you again,” Lily Evans said, rolling her eyes.

“Come off it—I know you fancy me,” James grinned as he dropped into the seat next to her.

Lily immediately buried her face in her hands as soon as he openly checked her out with his trademark sly wink.

“Anyone but you.”

At least that what James thought he heard slip from her mouth. It only made him grin harder. He saw that she’d covered her hickey’s up with make up. Clever witch. She’d have more before the night was up though, especially since they were going to walk back to the common room alone after detention.

James and Lily loved to be alone, together.

“I thought Remus was with me tonight.” She spoke loudly enough that time that he could decipher it.

“I asked him to take it.” James let his right hand cup her knee. “I didn’t get to finish our conversation earlier.”

“What conversation?” She half laughed, half cried into her hands. “There were no coherent words being formed!”

“Keep it professional, Evans. We have an hour of detention to get through,” James said. “I don’t want to remember how much moaning you were doing.

A muffled sigh escaped from behind her fingers as Lily stiffened, feeling James’ fingers casually slide up her thigh. Her school skirt bunched around his knuckles. She peered at him with one green eye through the gaps in her red-painted nails.

“Shouldn’t you keep it professional?” she argued. “Someone could walk in right now.”

James raised both his hands innocently. “They know we’re head boy and girl, Evans. They won’t question us being together for detention observation.”

Lily stayed rigid, pretending to study the detention list. “They might if they notice the head boy’s hands sneaking up my skirt.”

“My hands are not up your skirt,” James protested, waving his free hands in the air.

She shot him a look that was a mix of irritation and defiance. “They were,” she reminded him.

He wiggled two fingers in a ‘come here’ motion between their bodies. “I didn’t hear you complaining a few hours ago. Quite the opposite in fact.”

Lily put a hand in his face, stopping his mouth from latching into hers. “No.”

“Come on, Lil.” He said against her palm but she didn’t move it, so he licked from her wrist up to her fingers.

She cried out from surprise and he grinned wickedly as she wiped her hand on her skirt while glaring at him. “Keep your mouth and hands to yourself, James Potter.”

And she meant it.

James raised a brow, wondering what had gotten under her skin. Just a few hours ago she’d been the one shoving his hand under her skirt for the first time. Merlin, he’d almost died there and then. She’d been the one encouraging his overzealous mouth with her cute little moans and perfect little smiles.

“What’s up with you?” He asked, losing his nerve and snapping like a child.

She retorted back sharply, “Maybe if you’d had the decency to stick around after a good snog, I wouldn’t be so mad.”

“I had Quidditch,” he countered. “What was I supposed to do? Be late? They’d ask why, I’ve never ever been late. Not once in the last five years.”

“So,” she stuck her tongue out at him, “I was having a good time and you just—left me.”

Lily looked dejected and James felt a bit embarrassed. Only a bit.

“Did you want me to walk up thirty minutes late to quidditch and have to explain why I was late?” James countered, “because last I checked we were still snogging in secret. I’m late, and everyone will know something is going on. Wondering leads to questions. Questions lead to answers. Are you ready for me to answer those questions?”

“No,” she replied uneasily, “Yes? I don’t know.” Her head was back in her hands.

“What are we, Evans?” James demanded.

“We’re platonic,” she answered firmly. “We’re partners.”

“Partners who snog a lot,” James said, propping his feet up on the desk. “So I don’t think we can call this platonic anymore.”

“What would you call it?” Lily asked as the first person entered the room.

“A situational partnership.”

“That’s stupid.”

“Not as stupidly delusional as trying to call us friends.”

They both stopped talking as the boy got closer to their table positioned near the teachers podium in the room. James flipped the clipboard to the young blonde boy, who nervously signed in under the watchful eyes of the head students. If the kid noticed any tension between them, he wisely said nothing.

Lily cleared her throat before speaking to the student. “Professor Binns asked us to have you sort through the old school newspapers to find articles on the school choir history. I’ve set them up on the back table.”

The boy nodded glumly. “Yes, ma’am.”

James waited for Albert Hitchkens to get settled at his station before turning to the red-haired girl beside him. “So, what would you call us?”

Her cheeks flushed, and she avoided eye contact with James, focusing instead on Albert. “Friends.”

“Do you often let your friends finger you in the hallways then?” James asked casually, knowing his words would hit her just right.

He was rewarded when Lily’s head snapped around, her green eyes wide with surprise from his vulgarity as she whisper-yelled, “James!”

He shrugged, grinning. “Just making sure we’re on the same page.”

“I’m gonna—” Her threat was interrupted by another student entering the room.

Time passed.

The final four students for detention arrived and signed in. Lily set an hourglass for each to ensure they served their full hour. It was a relatively easy night; the detainees were mostly homework cheaters and fanged frisbee throwers.

James relaxed, leaning back in his chair while using his wand to create colorful smoke patterns in the air. Beside him, Lily watched, her stern expression softening as the colors soothed her. James grinned sideways at her before drawing an image not appropriate for detention.

She smacked him on the back of his head, making him shake out his hair. “You know I make you laugh,” he teased, enjoying the reaction he got from her.

“Careful,” she warned with a hint of humor in her eyes, “or I’ll give you detention.”

James leaned in, whispering, “I bet I could talk my way out of it.”

Lily wrinkled her nose in a playful manner. “How?”

“I have this totally platonic thing with a head girl…” He didn’t finish his sentence before she smacked him again, this time with a full smile.

“Fine, you absolute bastard,” she sighed, “I guess we’re partners, or whatever.”

“Partners,” James said, crossing his arms and giving her a challenging look. “Really? That’s all you’re going to give me?”

“Are you going to be late to quidditch every once in a while?” She mouthed back.

He opened and closed his mouth several times before forcing out a pathetic, “fine.”

“You mean it?” She didn’t trust him. Probably for the best.”

James took her hand under the table, squeezing it. “I mean it, if you promise to stop saying we’re just partners. Or just friends. That shit has been killing me, Lily.”

“What did you want me to say, James?”

“That I’m your boyfriend!”

He said it louder than intended, causing the room to fall silent. Lily tucked her hair behind her ear, struggling to keep her composure. The others went back to work, but James noticed the paper rustling was kept to a minimum.

“Fine,” she said in a soft whisper, “you’re my boyfriend.”

Score!

James leaned back in his seat with a satisfied grin. “See how easy that was, Evans? I knew you fancied me.”

He might’ve deserved that next smack across the back of his head.

[devotional-dwams]

Talk to me

Summary: Crosshair is being a dick, when is he not? But he’s not usually a dick to you, and frankly, you’ve had enough. Crosshair x GN reader (although the nickname “princess” is involved), love confessions. Prompts are in bold and are from the brilliant @novelbear, thanks hun!!

Word count: 1660

Warnings: Crosshair being huffy??? Idk. Reader cries but it’s only slight.

Authors note: Ough my boy. My boooy. Idk if you can tell but I love Crosshair, and so I was bound to write for him eventually. This is set pre-order 66 :))

It wasn’t difficult to notice Crosshair’s sour mood. He had been grumbling for days, and in the tight confinements of the Marauder, there wasn’t a lot of space for his grumbling to fill. Albeit, it was mostly indecipherable huffs, but it was enough to have everyone avoiding him for worry of making him feel worse. You watched him now, his figure sat hunched in the corner as he twirled a toothpick between his teeth and polished his rifle.

“Y/N?”

“Yeah, I’m listening.”

“No you weren’t. But I shall continue anyway,” Tech adjusted his goggles as he spoke.

Truthfully, you had been listening but then thoughts of Crosshair had clouded your mind, and your attention drifted away from the man under the console. Tech was in the middle of fixing the panelling, and you’d taken the free seat next to him in order to try and distract yourself. It wasn’t that you were interested in the sniper… maybe that was a lie. You had decided to go with the excuse of worry should anyone ask why you couldn’t take your eyes off him. As if Hunter would believe that, you huffed.

“-and really I, what?” Tech stuck his head out from underneath the console.

“Nothing.”

He picked the spanner up, pointing it at you as he spoke. “I dare say your mind is on Crosshair again.”

You crossed your arms. “No! What makes you say that?”

“Do I really need to go through that list of reasoning? Hold this wire.”

You held your palm out, holding the heavy wire that Tech placed in it. Really it felt more like a plug than a wire, but you conceded. “I’m just worried. He’s been too quiet.”

“He’s always quiet.”

“Yeah but usually he’ll have some kind of sarcastic quip to add. I haven't heard one in days.”

Tech reappeared, holding his hand out for the wire, which you passed to him. “And you miss them, I suppose? How sweet.”

“Tech!” you giggled as embarrassment bubbled up, slapping his arm as you did. From the corner of your eye you watched Crosshair get up and leave the room. The door whooshed behind him. “Don’t talk so loudly, you dolt.”

“I may remind you that you continued this conversation rather needlessly. We all know you’re in love with him.”

The day wore on and you came to the realisation that Crosshair was avoiding you, and if not, ignoring you. It had come as a bit of a slap in the face considering you always tried to be kind to him. The bunk beneath your back felt colder than usual, and in the end you got up, wrapped a blanket around you and headed to the cockpit. It didn’t matter to you that the lights weren’t on, your feet had the path memorised and you easily avoided any object in your way. When you came to the pilot and co-pilot seats, you halted in your tracks. Crosshair sat in one. His feet were propped up on the console, and his arms were crossed. As you turned to go, the floor beneath you creaked and his eyes opened.

“Sorry, I didn’t know- uh, sorry.”

He said nothing, only letting his gaze drift back over the windows in front of you. A sudden flare of anger rose up inside you. He’d been dismissive of you all day and when you apologised, he once again ignored you. You approached him, wrapping the blanket tighter around yourself in order to keep out the chill.

“Actually, no. Talk to me.”

“What?”

“Talk to me. You’ve been ignoring me all day, and I wanna know why.”

“None of your business.”

“Well I’m not moving until you tell me what’s wrong.” You stated, stubbornly sitting in the co-pilot seat beside him.

Silence enveloped you both. This was the problem the two of you shared; neither of you would admit when you were wrong. When you’d first joined the Batch, needing a lift and ending up friends with the strange bundle of clones, Wrecker had laughed. It’s like a nice Crosshair, he’d said. The sniper had sneered at that, elbowing his brother and insisting he was nice. What Wrecker said had stayed in everyone’s minds as it came apparent that he was right. You were a good shot, sarcastic, and most of all, stubborn. But you were chatty, open about how you felt, and you always made sure everyone was involved. When Crosshair would slink away to be alone, you’d find him and offer him a cuppa. Something soon shifted in the balance of the Havoc Marauder, but the issue remained in your shared stubbornness. Neither of you would admit how you felt- despite how apparent it was to all on the ship.

“You know,” you pulled the blanket up to your chin, “when we get to Ord Mantell in a few days, I’m so looking forward to going for a walk. My legs feel all cramped in here.”

Crosshair said nothing, still staring at the brilliant blues of space through the window.

“We could go for a wander if you want? Get some air from the others?”

“Why?”

“Well, I thought it might cheer you up.”

He turned to you, lip curled. “I’d not dream of tearing you away from your boys, princess.”

You were taken aback. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Don’t play games with me, Y/N. You’ve been drooling all over Tech recently. You’re like a dog trailing behind its master,” he turned his face away from you. “It’s pathetic.”

You had been spending a lot of time with Tech recently, that was true. His rambles had always interested you, and so when he noticed you were down about Crosshair’s sour mood, he’d suggested having a chat in order to distract you. Oftentimes it worked, your mind getting lost in the information Tech taught you. Yet you still couldn’t shake the concern you had over Crosshair, and the worry about the strain on your friendship. What had you done wrong? At his harsh words, you felt your eyes water. While he was cruel, Crosshair hadn’t spoken to you in such a manner before.

“You don’t mean that.” You muttered.

Crosshair stood, tired of pretending that he was fine. As he made to move past you, his eyes caught your hands as they brushed your face. When you sniffled, he realised what was happening.

“…are you crying?”

“No, shut up.”

“You are.”

“Fine, okay maybe I am.” You stood as well, blanket dropping into the seat. Your finger jabbed hardly into his chest when you spoke. “But it’s only because you’re an asshole.”

“Tell me something I don’t know, princess.”

“Oh stop with the princess thing. You know something Cross, you act all high and mighty but if you were actually nice to me, maybe I’d talk to you more too. And what the hell is wrong with me hanging out with Tech? He’s been cheering me up, you idiot.”

Crosshair blinked. “Cheering you up? Why?”

“Because I’m in love with you, you dumbass! And these last few days you’ve been treating me like shit,” you finger jabbed into his chest again, and he stumbled backwards slightly. “And you’ve been ignoring me all fucking day.”

Your chest deflated. Crosshair could essentially see the fire burning out of you. Your voice was a mumble when you spoke, your head dropped to your chest. “So just tell me what I did wrong so I can fix it.”

At the sight of your crumpled figure leaning against the seat, his heart shattered slightly. He’d done that. He’d made you cry. And what’s more, you loved him. You’d finally admitted what the two of you had been dancing around, you loved him.

He sighed, massaging his temple. “I’m sorry. I got…”

“Got?”

“You’ve been spending a lot of time with Tech.”

Something lit up in your mind. He was jealous? All his grumbling and death stares were because of the watchful green eyed monster on his mind? You pressed your fingers to your lips, giggling.

“You were jealous.”

“No, shove off.”

“Oh, you were so jealous.”

He went to cross his arms, but you took hold of his hands as he spoke in a small voice. “Maybe a little bit.”

“And why were you jealous, Cross?”

“You’re enjoying this way too much.”

“With the misery you’ve put me in, I think I deserve to tease you a bit. So, go on.” You nudged his forehead with yours. “Why?”

“Because I want all your attention on me, happy?”

“Why’s that?”

“Karkin hell, do I really have to spit it out?”

“I would appreciate that, yes.”

Crosshair fell silent for a moment. The tension in the room was palpable as he found your eyes, his hands in yours pulling you closer. “Because?” His nose brushed yours, his voice a hushed murmur. “I’m in love with you.”

“Oh, I-“

Crosshair’s lips landed on yours. The kiss began roughly, a harsh press against each other. Yet soon it melted into something sweet, and when he pulled away you found yourself chasing after for another kiss. Crosshair happily complied. When you parted, you nudged your face into his shoulder as he hugged you. It was extraordinarily unlike the clone you’d come to be so soft for, and yet somehow incredibly him. His hands were wrapped right around your waist, his nose in your hair. You felt him sigh happily.

For the moment the two of you would stay in your bubble, content in the long awaited admission of your feelings. In the morning, the crew of the Havoc would gently tease you both, laughing at the lovestruck expressions you wore for each other. Even Echo would poke fun at his little brother. And later still, you’d guide Crosshair to a semblance of comfort in being soft for you around his vod. For now though, it was enough to know that Crosshair was sorry, and that your feelings were shared.

[stanpinesdykewife]

Stop this is a golden opportunity your writing is so GOOD 🤩 Could I request a Stan x Reader fic where reader is playing/hanging out with the twins and Stan is like (´°̥̥̥̥̥̥̥̥ω°̥̥̥̥̥̥̥̥｀) “omg family”.

So down for pure fluff or even like some smut thrown in tbh I will read whatever you write, you’re brilliant

OKAY I GOT CARRIED AWAY. i'm having so much fun writing these thank you for such a cute prompt (and for complimenting me!! giggling!)!! tweaked it a little bit bc i just had to add ford and soos in there too :) they're a FAMILY (crying pounding the floor)!!!

pure fluff here! under the cut:

family time stan/reader (gender neutral) pre/during/post-canon/unspecified fluff, 1428 words

“This movie night is off the hizz-ook!” Mabel cheers, punctuating her statement with a harsh blow of her party blower. Ford laughs at the sound, even as she blows it directly next to his ear from where she’s propped up on the couch’s armrest.

“Oh, yeah! Two trilogies down, three more to go!” Dipper says, beaming down at a long list he and Mabel have curated for tonight—movies, a lot of them, all of them either incredibly feel-good or otherwise iconic. He draws a big red X over the title of the movie you’ve just finished. The credits roll quickly across the screen, and you start the search for the remote that all of you keep losing.

“Thank you again, Soos,” Ford says, leaning over to look past Dipper and Stan on the couch next to him. Soos is reclined in the big yellow armchair near the doorway to the foyer, going crazy on some assorted flavors of potato chips. He perks up when Ford addresses him. “We appreciate you and your abuelita letting us take over the TV room.”

“Dude, are you kidding?” Soos asks joyfully, through a mouthful of sour cream and onion chips. Stan leans over you to reach into the bowl of barbeque chips teetering on Soos’ lap. “The Shack is always open to you guys!”

“It better be, considering it was ours,” Stan says, a faux air of haughtiness surrounding his words. He shoves a handful of chips into his mouth and chews them with his mouth open while he’s still leaning over, effectively spitting some crumbs into your lap. You roll your eyes, but you huff out a laugh.

“It’s not mine!” you say, playfully shoving Stan’s shoulder so he’s not eating over you. You flash Soos a grin and he returns it, the red fez on his head sitting proudly. It suits him. “Thank you, Soos. This night is legendary. Uh, did I give you the remote before our last bathroom break?”

“I got the remote,” Dipper says helpfully, and you turn to see him clicking away from the credits to find the next movie. “But we are missing something. Mabel and great uncle Ford ate all the popcorn again.”

“Not guilty,” Ford says too quickly, suddenly staring at the wall straight ahead. He grips his can of Pitt Cola tightly and starts drinking it to avoid eye contact.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Mabel says at the same time, kernels of popcorn stuck between her teeth. You laugh at them both and move to stand up, pushing yourself forward with a hand on Stan’s knee. He’s gone quiet, silently chewing his chips as he watches you stand.

“Uh oh! Popcorn emergency!” you joke, accepting the empty bowl Ford hands to you from his lap. “Someone call the popcorn police!” Mabel jumps at the opportunity.

“Wee-oo, wee-oo, wee-oo!” she starts, and Dipper grabs his own party blower to make loud, honking noises between each siren effect. Soos joins in, and you laugh a little too loud before registering a quiet tapping noise from upstairs. Abuelita or Melody signaling for you guys to be quiet. Everyone shuts up. You slap a hand over your mouth, then mumble into it.

“Okay, okay, popcorn police has arrived! I’m on it,” you whisper genially. The rest of the family claps silently, cheering for you under their breath. All of them except Stan, who looks around the room, swallowing his mouthful. You flash him an extra little smile, when he looks at you, then you nod to everyone else. “Be right back.”

Hushed chatter starts up again behind you, mindfully quiet, but likely to spiral into a riot again soon enough. As you disappear into the foyer, to the kitchen, Stan sits quietly in the midst of it all.

A few minutes later, the popcorn has been popped. You open the bag carefully, and as you tip it over the empty popcorn bowl, someone shuffles in behind you. You look over your shoulder to see Stan, scratching the back of his head.

“Oh, hey,” you greet him, turning back to the task at hand. You shake the bag over the bowl, a light amount of smoke wafting from the cascade of popcorn falling out. “You guys don't care if it's a little burnt, right? I kind of like it that way, so if not, I'll just pick out the pieces myself. I've seen the kids totally turn their marshmallows to charcoal though, so hopefully—”

Stan places a hand on your hip and you turn to look at him out of instinct. Then his mouth is on yours, warm and soft, sweetened by the Pitt you've all been drinking. You drop the popcorn bag into the bowl and turn so you can kiss him properly, your hands automatically moving over his shoulders as Stan's hands go to your waist.

He gently leans you against the counter, the line of his body pressing into yours and drawing a shudder through you. Stan parts from you then, pressing his forehead to yours as you catch your breath.

“What—” He kisses you again, chaste this time, and you laugh lightly against his mouth. “What's this about? You okay?”

“Mhm,” he hums, but his eyes are closed. He’s holding something back. Stan kisses you again, just a peck, and you interlace your fingers behind his neck to rub soothing little lines into the base of his skull with your thumbs.

“Hey,” you say, softer. It takes a moment, but then Stan's eyes flutter open. Your breath hitches at his expression, full of affection and admiration and… something else. Something melancholy. You slide one hand over to cup his face, leaning your head back to get a good look at him. His gaze drifts to the side. “Hey. What's up?”

“It's, uh…” Stan's hands flex on your waist. You're familiar with the feeling. You used to think he just touches you for the sake of touching you, but over time, it started to feel more meaningful. Like he wants to know you're really there, maybe, or that you're not pulling away. He continues, “Just gettin’ used to it.” You wait for a moment. When he doesn't elaborate, you prod,

“Getting used to what?” Stan stares at the floor for a few more seconds, and you can actually see his face grow pink.

“You and the kids. Everyone. I've never—I mean, it's—” He struggles, searching for the words in the lines of the kitchen cupboards. He finds them eventually, slowly. “You're family. You're stuck with us. Y’know that, right?”

“Oh,” you say, drifting your thumb over his cheekbone as you process. Stan leans into his, his face smushed up against your palm, and the sight makes you smile, something warm crawling up your chest. “Yeah. I know. You’re stuck with me, too.”

Stan’s gaze finally lands on you again, searching your expression. You let him, admiring the brown of his eyes, the slight furrow to his brow. Then Stan looks at you straight-on, and he smiles. He huffs out a chuckle, awkward, like he’s embarrassed.

“Yeah, well. You couldn’t escape even if you wanted to,” he says. You blink at him.

“That sounds a little ominou—Hey!” You burst into laughter as Stan squats down, wraps his arm around the backs of your thighs, and picks you up over his shoulder. You start patting at his back, his shoulder blades, but Stan just bounces you to adjust your weight before turning around. Your leg almost hits one of the cupboards as you turn, but neither of you care. “Stan! Put me down!”

“No escape!” he shouts over you, his grin evident in his voice. You vaguely notice he’s grabbed the bowl of popcorn before he marches out of the kitchen. You don’t get to see anyone’s reaction when he carries you into the living room, but Stan prompts them well enough: “Pines! Pines! Pines!”

“Pines! Pines! Pines!” You hear Mabel and Dipper go for the popcorn and start munching through their chants. Soos is clapping, and Stan is emboldened enough to bounce you again, making you bark out a laugh with each dig of his shoulder into your belly. Ford is dedicated, chanting the loudest of them all until Stan pretends to drop you and Ford sputters in alarm.

You’re laughing through it, a flush on your face, your legs kicking in the air. But you can’t not join in. When your laughter’s died down enough to speak, you pump a fist in the air and chant along: “Pines! Pines! Pines!”

[ontheoddoccasioniwritestuff]

Early Riser (John Price x Reader) Smut

Based on the prompt: "Keep kissing me like that and we're gonna end up back in bed."

AN: Semi-inspired by the end of Season 1!Hotch who is excited to spend annual leave doing chores with his wife. Love it when a man enters malewife mode.

In other news, I'm gonna start a Price x Reader series soon! It's gonna be a lot of angsty pining so if that's your jam, I can't wait for you to read it!

Requests are open! Here's my guidelines to read before you send in a request and a list of kiss prompts if you're stuck for ideas.

Content warnings: Smut (18+ only, minors DNI), basically Price goes down on you in the kitchen. Reader is gender neutral and genitals described are gender neutral. No use of Y/N.

Masterlist // AO3 Version

Palms pressed into the cool granite countertop, you idly watched the space to the left of your kettle as it boiled. You had barely scrounged up the energy to leave your warm bed to get this drink; you did not have anything spare to be aware whilst you prepared it. The few aspects of your mind that were awake hoped this would fit the loophole of “a watched pot never boils” so that you could return to your room as fast as possible.

Finally, the water bubbled loudly and the switch flicked off. You poured a healthy amount into both your mug and the spare one you had for guests. Steam wafted up whilst carrying the strong scent of coffee; a splash of milk sweetened it before you prepared to stir in some sugar.

Something clamped down onto your right hip. You drew in a sharp inhale before it slid out slowly, relaxing as another hand mirrored its partner and the rest of John Price folded him up against you.

“Good morning,” You whispered.

“It is now.” John’s voice rolled off his tongue like a growl, deepened by his recent rousing from sleep. He paired his reply with a kiss on your shoulder. Briefly allowing his forehead to rest where his lips had been, he then kissed your aching neck. Your heart’s eager pulse greeted him.

“Keep kissing me like that and we’re gonna end up back in bed,” You warned, despite allowing his arms to trap you in a grip a boa constrictor would be jealous of.

John let out a gentle hum; he swayed you both from side to side in time with the clink of the spoon against your mug.

Then he mumbled, “Don’t need the bed.”

The teaspoon clattered on the countertop as his hands found their marks. Instinctively, your body keened against John’s, allowing him to rut into you whilst tenderly squeezing over your pyjamas.

Your voice came out a little whinier than expected, “Don’t want breakfast then?”

“Actually, I’m famished,” John said and his coarse facial hair tickled against your cheek, “Figured I should help myself.”

A laugh tripped over your tongue into a moan before you replied: “You’re horrible. Didn’t you get enough last night?”

“Never enough. Just ran out of steam.” Calloused fingertips found the gap between your sleep shirt and trousers. They spread warmth up your torso, cupping your chest, your shirt caught on his forearm.

“John,” You let your head fall back against him, “We have time.”

“Never enough,” he repeated. “Hate waking up and you’re not there.”

“You need me now?”

“Please.”

Freed from his grasp for a split second, you pushed the coffee cups into the sink, not caring about the spilt steaming liquid that glugged down the drain, then you shoved back the sugar pot and milk. John spun then lifted you onto the cool countertop. His body was drawn back against yours, returning his lips to your neck and the evidence of his affection he’d left last night. Your hips rose up as he yanked down your pyjamas and slid down on his knees. A grunt stuck in his throat; you held back a comment about his aging joints but not the smirk.

Instead, you scratched your nails through his hair, giving it a tender tug whenever he kissed your thigh. “You’re gonna clean this up after.”

His words were half lost against your skin, “I’ll do anything you want.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, the gutters need clearing.” You could feel his lips twitch with mirth against you before he pulled you closer to the edge of the counter. “And the oven could use a scrub.”

“Make me a list.” His hands squeezed the meat of your legs to close them around his head.

A gentle sigh escaped you, “You’re so good to me.”

Looking up at you with bleary blue eyes, John whispered, “Nothing you don’t deserve.”

And, to prove his point, he rewarded you with his tongue, talented and tenacious.

[daisyvisions]

Between the Lines - (c.ch)

‧⋆ ✧˚₊‧⋆. Pairing: roommate!Chanhee x afab!reader

‧⋆ ✧˚₊‧⋆. Summary: In which Chanhee finds a book on your bed as he goes inside your bedroom. And what he finds inside the book sparks something deep within his soul that he HAS to confront you about it.

‧⋆ ✧˚₊‧⋆. Word Count: 2.1K

‧⋆ ✧˚₊‧⋆. Warnings: Smut (18+, minors DNI), enemies to lovers (implied), mean!Chanhee (but secretly sweet), fingering, edging, hair pulling, marking, rough sex, unprotected sex (but he pulls out), calls reader princess a lot (but says slut once), brief aftercare, some manhandling if you squint. Mentions of making out and being watched. A very whiney Younghoon makes an appearance. Proofread twice. Let me know if I missed anything! Bolded lines were smut prompts used from this list.

‧⋆ ✧˚₊‧⋆. A/N: My late birthday gift to my lovely moot @ilovechanhee and a treat for all the Chanhee stans! Been so stuck in a rut but thank god I found the inspiration and motivation to write this out. Something different but was totally fun to write! (wow look at that, a fic that doesn’t involve creampies hahah)

‧⋆ ✧˚₊‧⋆. Network & Tag: @deoboyznet

You never should've said yes. Especially when Younghoon was on his knees begging for his life like he’d never done before.

“Please let him stay…” Younghoon looks up at you as he hugs your legs.

“And what makes you think I want him here?!” You try to push him away.

“Just give him a few months and he’ll be out of here in no time.”

“The answer is no-” You try to wiggle your way out of Younghoon’s embrace but his arms wrap around your legs tighter, nearly making you trip over him.

“He has nowhere else to go. Please he’s my friend!”

“And I’m also your friend! And I said no!”

“He’ll stay in my room the entire time and I'll tell him to be out of your way I swear! Please let him stay with us…” He pleads like his life depended on it.

You’ve never heard Younghoon sound like this, not even when he’s drunk out of his mind (which you’ve witnessed quite often). But when he’s looking up at you with those cute baby boy eyes, how could you say no?

And that’s how you ended up becoming roommates with the person you hate the most in this world… Choi Chanhee.

Contrary to what everyone believes, there was a time where you did like actually Chanhee. A time wherein you wanted become his friend. But it seemed like every time you tried to interact with Chanhee, he wanted nothing to do with you.

Always giving you the cold shoulder, rolling his eyes, making snarky remarks, and etc. That’s how the whole rift between you two started.

Every hangout you guys would have, you two would never stop bickering. It was annoying to everyone at first but eventually it became background noise. Just letting you two argue it out until you both started getting tired.

Arguments between you and Chanhee would get incredibly heated especially when he was invited to come over to the apartment that you shared with Younghoon.

He would just come barging in your room unannounced just to annoy the living shit out of you. Commenting about your boring life since you’re cooped up in your room all day or whatever pajamas you decided to wear that night were worn “just for him”.

Even when you’d walk into the kitchen to get some water you could feel his stare burning right through you as he slowly ate whatever snack he had in his hand. The way his smirk would make you feel something weird bubbling in your stomach. But you would push down that feeling deep within and continue to ignore him as he kept on staring.

“C’mon princess, don’t act like you hate having me here…” Chanhee would tease. And on cue, you’d roll your eyes at him and talk back before walking back to your room.

It was already bad enough that this was the usual routine you two had with one another while he was a guest in your home. But to have him as roommate for nine months? It was going to drive you to the point of insanity.

You should’ve never fell for Younghoon’s pleading eyes. Because now everything Chanhee did to annoy you was a hundred times worse than you could ever imagine.

Hogging the shower when he knew you’d be late for work. Waking you up way too early when he’d blast his music as he was cooking. Seeing him make out with some stranger on the couch as you got home, keeping his gaze on you as his neck was being kissed.

The list goes on.

You started hating him more and more as each day passed, wishing he would just leave you alone. However, a part of you secretly liked the way he would give you some sort of attention. Even if it was the kind of attention that made your head ache, it was still better than nothing right?

But you would rather drown in a lake than admit that to anyone… especially to him.

“Y/n! Your turn to use the washing machine! Hurry up already!” Chanhee calls for you from the living room. He lets out a big sigh before making his way into your room, wondering what the hell was taking you so long to respond to him.

As soon as he swings your door open, he doesn’t find you in your usual spot on the bed. He does notice however, the book you’ve been reading during the past few days lying open. He walks towards the book, grabbing it to see what had been so special about it.

You do nothing but stick your nose into the pages, so hyper focused on the story that you don’t even pay attention to him like you usually do (which would make him huff out of frustration.)

“Fucking nerd.” Chanhee mumbles to himself as he inspects the book cover before reading into the page you had stopped on.

As he carefully reads each sentence, his eyes grow wider and a smirk starts to form on his lips. His smile slowly becoming similar to that of the Grinch during Christmas.

“Oh she is so dead.”

You turn the shower knob off before stepping out, grabbing your towel to wipe off a few extra drops of water on your body and squeezing the water out of your hair before you wrap the towel around your body.

As you make your way back to your room, you yelp in surprise. Clutching onto your towel from unfastening as you see Chanhee sitting at the edge of your bed reading the book that you left behind.

Oh god… the book.

“I gotta say princess… you keep on finding ways to surprise me.” Chanhee smiles while his eyes stay glued on the page he’s reading.

You walk quickly towards the edge of your bed, one hand still clutching onto your towel as your free hand attempts to reach out for the book in Chanhee’s hands.

“Give that back!” You exclaim.

But Chanhee’s movements are much faster than yours. He holds the book far away from your reach, holding your waist with one hand while you inserted yourself between his legs and attempted to grab the book.

“Not so fast now, I was getting to the part where the knight takes the princess against the wall of a hallway.”

‘We can’t. Someone might see us.’ the princess gasps.

‘And what if I want them to see us?’ The knight inserts his thigh between her legs, pinning her wrists above her head as he leaves tender kisses on her neck.

‘Let them see how good I make you feel’ He whispers into her mouth.

Your cheeks turn bright red as Chanhee reads the excerpt from your book out loud.

“Chanhee, please!” You tip-toe to try and reach for the book.

“Fuck- Can’t believe this is the kind of stuff you read. Who would’ve known you’d be such a dirty little thing?” He looks up and smiles at you.

“Chanhee I swear to god if you don’t give me my book back and get out of this room I’ll-ah!”

You squeal as Chanhee pulls your wrist towards him, accidentally landing on his lap before he quickly flips you under his figure. He grips your wrists and pins them onto the mattress, the book way beyond your reach now.

“And you’ll do what? Hm? Gonna make me fuck you like the characters in your porno book?” He raises his eyebrow.

“Huh? No! That’s not what I-”

“Because that’s exactly what I want to do to you…” He looks at you dead in the eye. His eyes blown out and full of lust.

“What?” Your eyes widen. Did he really just say that to you?

“Not gonna lie princess, I’ve thought about this moment for so long.” Chanhee lowers his head, lightly brushing his lips against your cheek before whispering in your ear,

“You drive me so insane, you don’t even know.”

You feel your spine shiver with how his voice deepens one octave lower. Feeling your core slowly dampen as you clench your thighs together. And Chanhee notices your movements too.

He slightly pulls his head away, the tip of his nose lightly kissing yours. His breath fanning against your lips in the process.

“How about we make those scenes in your book come to life?”

“C’mon now, beg for it princess.” Chanhee taunts. He had been pumping his long fingers inside you for what felt like hours. His lips leaving marks all over your breasts as you sweetly moan for him.

Every time you’d get closer to the edge, he would immediately pulls his fingers out of your wet hole. Tears would form at the corners of your eyes every time he would deprive you of your sweet release.

“I-ah! I have been begging! Please Chanhee-” You whine out.

You feel your orgasm fast approaching as your walls tighten around his fingers once more.

“You want to cum?”

“Y-yes, I— please—”

“Hm, but do you really deserve to?”

“Please, I’ve been good. Really good! Please- wanna cum so bad!” You desperately beg.

“Yeah? Want your greedy cunt cumming all over my fingers?” Chanhee asks as he vigorously pumps his digits inside you. You nod your head rapidly in response, feeling your orgasm just teetering at the edge.

But before you’re about to let go, he pulls his fingers out of you.

“No! Wait-” You cry out.

“Shh…” Chanhee presses his wet finger against your lips. “Want you to cum around my cock instead.”

Before you can even respond he flips you onto your stomach, spreading your legs apart as he inserts himself between. He hastily pulls out his aching member from his boxers and aligns himself against your wet pussy before pushing his entire length inside you.

“Holy shit- you’re way tighter than I thought you’d be-” Chanhee groans as he pulls your hair and begins to rapidly pound himself into you.

You want to tell him to fuck you harder, but all the words die in your throat as you start to babble out incoherent sounds instead. You mind becoming foggy from all the edging earlier and the way his cock drags inside your velvety walls.

Chanhee pushes your face into the mattress, pressing his entire weight on top of you to lock you in place.

“Keep it down. You wouldn’t want our dear roommate finding out about what I’m doing to you right? Or are you such a slut you’d let him watch me fuck you til you can’t walk?”

You let out a whined moan, shaking your head instead of giving him a proper answer.

“Good. Now cum for me princess!”

And like clockwork you do. Gushing all over his member as you moan into your mattress, muffling the lewd sounds coming out of your mouth as much as possible. Chanhee follows after you, quickly pulling out and shooting his load all over your back as he deeply grunts.

You feel like you're floating on a cloud as the pleasure slowly subsides. Trying to catch your breath as you try to calm your senses from feeling too overwhelmed by everything that had happened tonight.

But you’re suddenly pulled out of your trance as soon as you feel sensitive from your core being wiped with a warm towel. Chanhee continues to wipe away his spend on your back and slowly flip you onto your back and wrap your towel around your body again.

“You okay?” Chanhee checks on you as he brushes the loose hair from your face.

“Yeah, I think so. T-thank you by the way…” You awkwardly reply.

Chanhee chuckles, amused by how cute you’ve become again even after he fucked your brains out just moments ago. You watch him as he adjust his clothes, your eyebrows knitting in confusion as you see him making his way to the door.

“W-where are you going?” You innocently ask.

Chanhee turns around and smiles at the way you pout. He walks back to you and leans down to give you a soft kiss on your lips.

“Gotta continue with the chores princess. Some of us actually do our chores remember?” He smiles, playfully teasing you.

He walks back to the door, before he completely heads out of your room his head pops back in,

“And by the way, if you ever need to reenact more scenes… I’m just a few feet away.”

[cissyenthusiast010155]

Any chance I can request 33. , 63. For Cipher X reader. Injured Cipher goes to reader for help ?( Like in the clip , where she's injured ?) Or anything you want . Cipher only having a soft spot for reader anything you want ?

Happy Holidays, I’m Dying ~Soft!Cipher xFem Wife!Reader ~Holiday Bingo

Summary— Cipher shows up at Readers place after being attacked by Dante. It happens to be during the holidays, and you clean the woman up. This is Readers first time seeing her wife in a while… Anon Response— Hi hi anon!! Thank you for the request. I love the idea of a Soft!Cipher…! I hope you Enjoy! ♥️

Previous Day <—found here!

Holiday Bingo <—Here!!

Mommy… Master List

Request & Prompt-List

Prompt— Home for the Holidays

#33. “Don’t do that… let me see you”

#63. “I’m… I’m afraid I might hurt/break you…”

Warnings: tw: blood and injury, little angst, little fluff, passing out, pain, etc.

Enjoy (;

You heard a loud thud against your front door and then you heard the door bell ring.

You immediately sat up from your bed, quickly putting on your robe and grabbing your gun. You cautiously walked down the stairs of your home, then to the front door. You looked through the peep hole but didn’t see anyone. So you slowly opened the door.

There leaning against the door frame, barely propping herself up and covered in blood, was Cipher. Your breath got stuck in your throat and you immediately put your gun down to help the woman.

“I—I’m sorry, I didn’t know where else to go…” Cipher grunted, some blood dribbling from her mouth as she spoke.

You nodded and quickly reached for the woman. Cipher’s body instinctively jolted and almost jumped back at your touch, but her mind calmed her body enough to remember that you were safe.

“I won’t hurt you, love. Please…” you gently pleaded.

Cipher let you take her into your arms, carrying her to the living room and onto one of your couches. She let out small groans and whimpers of pain as you two moved in tandem.

Cipher winced as she sat. Once she was sitting down, you got up to go grab some supplies. She looked around at your festive decorations around the place.

“Nice decorations…” she mumbled.

“Thanks. One sec, let me get some things…” you muttered, before leaving the room.

You came back with your first aid kit and you sat down in between Ciphers legs to tend to her. As you began to inspect the woman’s many injuries, she pulled away, not letting you see her many many deep cuts and jabs.

“Don’t do that… let me see you, love” you softly chided.

Cipher blushed lightly and nodded, letting you properly tend to her wounds.

“I’m sorry…” she mumbled before losing consciousness.

You started to panic now. She was losing blood fast, and now she was out like a light. You worked quickly to repair and stitch all her open wounds. After a while, and with a lot of bloody gauze around you, you wiped your forehead after having finished.

Cipher still lay there unconscious, and she would stay that way for a couple more hours. And your work wasn’t full proof, it was only a temporary solution.

When the blond did finally wake up, she was pretty intent on leaving, mumbling something about Toretto and his family.

You grabbed Cipher as she moved to the door, and she winced in pain.

“You can’t leave, you’re in no shape…”

Cipher turned to look at you. Her eyes were glossy and filled with a mixture of sadness and rage.

“I have too.”

“Why…?” You asked softly and vulnerably.

“I’m… I’m afraid I might hurt you… that they might break me by finding you…” she breathed out.

That was one of the most vulnerable things she’d ever said to you. In response, you kissed your wife lightly on the lips.

“Please be safe.”

“You know me, Baby… Always for you.” Cipher hummed, kissing you back with more depth and fervor.

She then pulled away and went to leave out the door, but not before saying one more thing,

“I love you, Baby.” She hummed.

“Hmmm, love you too” you hummed back.

~~~

Next Bingo Fic <—Here!!

Cipher Masterlist

Holiday Bingo 2023 Masterlist

Tag List: @storiesofsvu @aemilia19 @vexed-jade @lunala-rose23 @willowshadenox @sapphixwriter

[scary-grace]

for the milestone ask- 50 & 39 ?

thank you for sending me prompts! this is set in canon and features a gender-neutral reader. I'm still taking Shigaraki x reader prompts from this list -- send me one (or more) and I'll write a short fic!

‘leaning into the other’s side’ + ‘putting a hand over the other’s mouth to shut them up’

“I thought you wanted to watch this.”

“I do,” you say, your voice muffled. “I really want to.”

Tomura pauses the movie. You pull your face out of his shoulder and find him staring down at you. “If you wanted to watch this movie, how come you’re not looking?”

It’s less accurate to say that you wanted to watch this particular movie than that you wanted to watch a movie, any movie, with Tomura. He isn’t really a movie person – he likes his visual media interactive, which means video games or nothing – but you all have had a lot of downtime recently, and you seized your chance. You figured your best bet was something unpredictable, so you picked a horror movie. And so far your plan’s had a one hundred percent success rate.

Tomura is sitting next to you on the moth-eaten couch in the newest makeshift hideout, and he didn’t complain when you leaned against him – or when you put your head on his shoulder. It’s more physical contact than you’ve seen him give anybody, and he’s paying attention to the movie. In fact, there’s only one flaw with your plan, one you put there yourself. You really hate horror movies. And in an effort to lure Tomura into watching the movie with you, you picked one of the scariest ones ever.

“I’m not – not looking,” you say. “I’m just taking a break. It’s scarier than I thought it was going to be.”

“It’s a horror movie,” Tomura says, looking at you like you’re crazy. “How scary did you think it was going to be?”

“Um –” Your plan is starting to fall apart, and it’s all because you’re a chicken. “I think that first jump-scare just got to me. I’m good. Let’s keep watching.”

Tomura doesn’t look like he believes you even slightly, but he presses play anyway, and the movie starts up again. He’s watching it. You’re watching him.

You’ve spent a lot of time watching Shigaraki Tomura – first blindly, through newspaper reports and press releases, then on camera the night the Hero Killer was captured in Hosu City. When you joined the League of Villains, watching your leader and learning his tells and whims was the smartest thing to do. At least that’s what you told yourself, until you realized you weren’t just watching him. You were studying him, learning all about him, feeling closer to him than you had a right to. Closer than you felt to any of the other members of the League. Close enough to want him more.

With any other guy, you’d just tell them how you felt, but you’ve got no idea if Tomura likes anybody, let alone you. If you told him you had a crush on him, he might kick you out of the League, and then you’d be doomed. You figured you would just wait and see, but you’re not good with suspense, so you came up with a way to figure it out – by watching a horror movie with him, when you’re not good with that kind of suspense, either. You’re starting to feel like this was a mistake.

“What are you doing?” Tomura’s voice startles you. He sounds irritated, and you don’t know why. You must look confused, because he elaborates, scowling in a way that distorts the scar at the corner of his mouth. “You’re over there. I said you could sit here.”

You glance at the space between you and realize that you’ve unconsciously created some distance. More distance than you meant to, and Tomura clearly doesn’t like it. Your heart lifts ever so slightly and you scoot back over until you’re leaning against him again. “Sorry. I wasn’t sure if I was annoying you.”

“If you were annoying me I’d leave.” Something you like about Tomura – he’s ridiculously straightforward. “This movie is only scary if you’re scared of small spaces.”

“Maybe,” you acknowledge. “It would take a lot to make me go in a cave. If I got stuck like that character did I’d probably go crazy in two seconds or less.”

“Yeah, well, I could Decay a whole cave faster than that, so –” Something flashes across the screen, and Tomura jumps. “What the fuck was that?”

“I don’t know,” you say. You really don’t; you were too busy watching Tomura, trying to figure out if he was really saying that he’d save you if you got stuck in a cave. “Maybe it’ll come back and we can get a better look.”

“I don’t want it to come back,” Tomura snaps. Now he looks unnerved. His eyes keep darting back to the screen, even though nothing’s happening and the characters didn’t even see whatever it was. “I’m not scared. It just surprised me.”

You nod in agreement. You’d have jumped if you saw it, too, only you’d have actually been frightened. Tomura shifts slightly, forcing you to put more of your weight against him if you want to keep leaning against him. You do, so you go with it, and the next time Tomura jumps, you jump too. “There it is again,” Tomura says. He jumps again; you don’t. You’re too happy with where you are at the moment to pay attention. “Is this what the rest of the movie’s going to be like? It’s – shit –”

Whatever he was going to say vanishes in a weird, startled yelp as one of the monsters this movie apparently has puts in its first real appearance. The monster is nowhere near as incongruous as the sound Tomura just made, and you can’t help but burst out laughing. Tomura’s hand comes down over your mouth, index finger raised. “Shut up,” he hisses. You know you shouldn’t laugh. He didn’t laugh at you for being scared, either. “If you make any more noise, you’ll wake up the others.”

You suggested you watch the movie at night, partially for atmosphere but mostly to make sure there weren’t interruptions. Tomura seemed confused by the request at the time, and you got the sense he only agreed because he couldn’t think of a reason not to. “You don’t want them to wake up?” Your lips move against the palm of his hand and he startles again, worse than all the other times combined. You’re lucky his index finger doesn’t come down. “Why not?”

“Don’t be stupid.” Tomura’s hand lifts away from your mouth. “And don’t laugh, or I’ll have to do – this – again.”

He’s curling his hand into a fist, then opening it again. “Okay,” you agree. “I’ll cover your mouth for you if you scream again.”

“I didn’t scream.” Tomura pushes you away for a moment, but it’s only to free his arm, which he wraps awkwardly around your shoulders. Your face heats up, and worse when you shift around to get comfortable and his grip tightens the instant you go still. “I could still Decay those things. We wouldn’t get eaten.”

The movie’s just going to get scarier. Knowing what the monsters look like doesn’t make them any less horrifying when they jump out of unexpected places, and you’re both in for a rough time. Still, you can’t see this as anything more than a success. He put his arm around you. You didn’t make him do that. Tomura only does things he wants to do, and that means he wants to be close to you – at least a little bit, at least for now. You’ll take it. “I know.”

[eupheme]

“you're mine, and i take care of what belongs to me.” Or “I can’t get enough of you” / “Does that feel good?” Prompts for Edward Deegan, please :]

ahh I can’t tell you how excited I was to get a Deegan request!!! I tried to do a little something with each one you listed - they were so good, thank you!! 💖

— only you (and you alone)

edward deegan x sole!survivor!reader

rated e | <1k words

prompts: “you're mine, & i take care of what belongs to me.”/“I can’t get enough of you”/“Does that feel good?”

tags: tiny bit of cabot slander (sorry), references to ghoulification, soft smut, feelings, PiV - an exploration of deegan's feelings towards sole!reader

Maybe, in the old days, he might have been embarrassed. The bare mattress on the old, creaking bedframe - he knows you both have memories of finery. Of what romance should be, what he could never give you - still thinking you deserve better, in the silence between dusk and dawn.

Edward Deegan has seen much, in the long years he's walked the Wasteland. There wasn’t a lot that surprised him anymore - not in the two hundred and some years that had passed since this all began.

Miles trekked across the Commonwealth in those early days, until his skin burned with radiation. Skin tightening, sloughing off.

Those now-blurry days of sickness, where he had begged for it all to just end. Only to come out on the other side - forever changed, and forever living.

Forever bound to the Cabots, with all their family secrets. As loyal and fierce as a old dog, after everything they've done for him.

With you in the picture, though - that dedication tips towards something that resembles real affection.

Because tonight, he's glad for his own room - that narrow space, tucked away in the basement. It sometimes felt so small, with the wide breath of his shoulders. All that shed armor piling up at night against the trunk in the corner, pieces creeping across the cracked concrete.

Suffocating, compared to the vast house and the sprawling floors, hidden rooms. All that empty space, untouched for decades.

Edward had never said anything. He had always known his place, and it wasn't his to question. Never even occured to him to think about it, until one of your early, off-handed remarks had him bristling. An urge to defend his employers, until he realized your comment had been wrapped in concern for him.

But if his room had been bigger - if for some reason, the house had been his for the night - then he wouldn't be so wrapped up in you now. He likes the way you cling to him, laid out bare beneath him on his bed and looking like you belong there.

Edward had always been good with hunches, but he still can't believe the luck that had led him to meeting you outside Bunker Hill. How he had been curious, and then pleasantly surprised - again, a rarity - when your reputation held strong.

When you had stuck around, after.

And then once more, when you had boldly stepped over the line of hired help, and became something more.

Always so good at following orders - and you do so here, too. Lips parted on a sigh as you answer his commands.

“Does that feel good? Tell me, doll.”

He always wants to know, and you always answer.

“Yes. So good baby, don’t stop-”

Now, with the walls closing in, your moans echo. Music to his ears, his own sounds bitten back and swallowed, so he can hear more of yours.

How they fill the small space, surrounding him like your embrace. The strong grip of your soft hands, where they anchor against his shoulder, the curve of his neck. Clinging to him as he grinds himself deep into the tight clench of your cunt.

Making every second count.

These visits too few and far between. His loyalties lie here, his trips outside governed.

You’re already stretched thin, making a name for yourself. But you always end up finding your way back here, if only for a night.

Maybe, in the old days, he might have been embarrassed. The bare mattress on the old, creaking bedframe - he knows you both have memories of finery. Of what romance should be, what he could never give you - still thinking you deserve better, in the silence between dusk and dawn.

Things he won’t say out loud, because he can already see your expression - the anger held in the pull of your brow, the narrowed slit of your eyes. A look so often thrown at others, but so rarely at him.

You had never batted an eye at any of it. Of his arrangement, of him.

If it was good enough for him, if he was there, it was good enough for you.

Always enough.

And as he brings his mouth down to yours - he feels how your heart mirrors his. Pounding beneath your skin, under the careful press of his thumb where his broad hand spans your throat.

Your lips greedily meeting his, hips rocking to meet the grindof his hips. Sighing with the soft swipe of your tongue against his, pulling back to murmur soft words and praise and his name - all things that will have to keep him until next time.

He’s never owned much, but tonight you’re his.

And he always takes care of what belongs to him.

His fingers swirl against your clit, tight circles that have you moaning into his mouth. Thighs tightening where they hook around his hips, urging him deeper. Your nails biting into the meat of his shoulders, pinching with each pound of his cock.

His cheek brushes against your nose, as he allows himself to want.

Committing to memory the sound of your cry as it breaks - pitching high, as you tremble beneath him. A warmth that starts somewhere behind his ribs before it pools low in his belly - feeling the way you flutter around his aching cock for the second time that night.

He’ll aim for one more before sunrise.

“I can’t get enough of you.”

It’s a confession - murmured quietly into your hair, unheard as you drift back down.

And just this once - he wishes for something more.

ahh anon thanks so much for sending this in! I love him & was so excited to get this!! 💖 and thank you so much for reading!!

[serenefreakgeekao3]

I have one!!!

Jim Halpert x gn!reader with fluff prompt

“Sad…I have a blanket with all this room and no one to share it with.”

With that episode ‘After Hours’ (yes I looked it up 🥲) where Jim is trying to get Cathy out of his hotel room so Dwight helps, but then Jim gets stuck with Dwight. So R comes to Jims rescue and offers him to stay with them in their room.

Summary: Jim is sent on a business meeting along with a few other prospective candidates for Vice President. When everything begins to spiral out of control, Jim doesn’t know who to turn to next //AU where Jim and Pam never got together, Pam went through with her marriage and the two children she has are with Roy, Pam is a sales associate, and Reader is the receptionist / being used as Nellie’s personal assistant Warnings: Use of Y/N, switching POV (between reader and Jim), use of the word ‘whxre’ (not at anyone), Author's Note: I’ll be completely honest my friend, I’ve completely forgotten who Cathy is! If she worked as the receptionist for Dunder Mifflin Scranton, then no she didn’t! In fact she’s not from Scranton at all cause reader doesn’t know her so how about that, there we go. Did I go back and rewatch the episode you mentioned? Yes. did i hate myself for it? Maybe a little bit. But it was during work so what else was i supposed to be doing? Work? Nah (ok look i wrote literal notes for this fic like it was a damn english project in school ok pls love this for me) Also on a side note, there needs to be more fics of Jim Halper x Reader ok I am literally dying without them. picture im like a dehydrated person in the desert just dragging my body around ok I need more fics

Arriving at the hotel in Tallahassee should’ve been a lot smoother than it turned out to be. They were all told that Dunder Mifflin had it ‘handled,’ which should’ve been your first clue. What really tipped you off was the number of rooms available.

“What do you mean? There should be one extra-”

“That’s all the rooms we have on record, sorry.”

“No,” You sighed, rubbing your face with your hands, “No, I know. It’s not your fault at all. Just- do you have any extra available rooms? I’ll pay for it out of my own pocket.” It’s not as if you were being paid millions to be a receptionist at Dunder Mifflin, but you’d rather not have to ask to bunk with anyone. Everyone here were adults, and half of them seemed dead set on performing some sort of sexual act for the evening.

You had driven over with Nellie after she insisted you both carpool to cut costs. Then you had to suffer an entire car ride about how pent up she was, how she just wanted to get laid and she wasn’t above using her decision on who will be the new VP to get herself into bed. You tuned out before she could start listing names since there was nothing in the world you wanted to know less than what kind of guy Nellie was into.

“I’m sorry, it looks like we don’t have any extra rooms available.”

You were about to speak when you were bumped into, turning around to see the large crowd of Dunder Mifflin employees lining up behind you. You start handing out the proper keys to their proper rooms, having Dwight snatch his key cards out of your hand before immediately pouncing on Nellie. You were extremely thankful when Jim finally squeezed his way to the front. You hand over the card you labelled with his name, then sighed, looking back to the woman behind the counter.

“It does seem like there are a few rooms that have been reserved but haven’t been checked into yet. Their estimated check-in times are varied, so if you wait here there is a possibility that I could get a room for you at some point tonight.”

“I would really appreciate that, thank you,” You mumble over to her, then lean closer to Jim when he starts insistently tapping your shoulder.

“Can you be my new Tallahassee buddy? Stanley keeps going on and on about how we’re both bachelors and I’m pretty sure he’s wanting to get laid tonight. And I’m so not about to be around all of that anymore.” You chuckle at the similarities, shaking your head.

“That’s horrible. It’s like there’s something in the air here. Nellie was saying the same stuff during the car ride!” It was hard to talk with the loud crowd, but you weren’t complaining about how close Jim was standing next to you. “Unfortunately, I won’t be much of a buddy today. I would, but the company messed up, they didn’t reserve enough rooms!”

“They didn’t mess up!” You jump at the foreign voice, spinning around to see Nellie sliding up close to you, practically hanging on your shoulder. She already had Dwight and Packer trailing her closely from behind. “I told them the correct number of rooms, I swear it!”

“There’s not one for me-”

“Yeah, because I told them you didn’t need one!” You furrow your brows in confusion, watching her for a moment. “I figured you’d bunk with me! We’d be bunk buddies!”

“Nellie,” You hesitate, eyeing the men behind her before leaning forward, “There is absolutely no way in hell I’m sharing a room with you, considering what you talked about on the way up here.” Nellie stood there for a moment, obviously confused before suddenly jumping and spinning around to see the men trailing her. She laughs loudly, winking at them before turning back to you.

“Oh! Good idea!”

You watch Nellie just say this, then turn and leave. You sigh again, shaking your head and turning toward Jim. “If things can get settled in time I’d love to, Jim, but I-”

“Sorry, I couldn’t help but overhear,” A woman sidled up close, brushing herself against Jim’s arm. You watched the man jump, then turn and furrow his brow at this woman.

“Cathy?”

“Yes! It’s so good to see you, Jim! If you need a new Tallahassee buddy, I am willing and available.” You choked on your spit at the innuendo, watching her practically rub herself again Jim. You watched him try to take a step back, then bump into the counter behind him. You could feel something burning your chest at the way she was acting toward him. Much too forward, in your opinion, though maybe that’s what Jim likes? Should you do that, would that gain his attention?

“Oh, well, that sounds fun-”

“Great! So we can-”

“Hello?” You turn quickly at the receptionist’s insistence, raising your eyebrows toward her in a gesture that you were listening. At this she smiles back, looking back to her computer. “So the first one that may be available should be checking in within the hour. If by the top of the hour they don’t get here, I can make a phone call for you.”

“Oh, thank you so much. Really, I appreciate it.”

“Of course!”

You turn back to Jim, watching the woman walk away with a sway to her hips. You chuckle, shaking your head. “So you know her?”

“Oh, she works with the company.” He tears his eyes away from her, smiling down at you once more. “She’s willing to sit with me so I don’t have to deal with Stanley all weekend.”

“Oh good!”

“Of course, unless you would like to sit with me?” Jim smiles, and you could tell he was trying to charm his way into the seat next to you. If only he knew you would do anything for him.

“If I’m there in time, definitely. But this whole hotel business is turning into a real-” You’re interrupted by a phone call, cursing quietly and smiling apologetically to Jim. “I’m so sorry- I’ll just be a second,” You answer the phone, stepping aside to deal with some business for Nellie. You miss Jim giving you a longing stare before he finally turns around and begins making his way toward the bar.

  Jim felt lonely. He was almost excited to go on this trip, to get away from Scranton and all of the normalcy and monotonous days and maybe even spend some time with you outside of work for once. Or, as outside of work as he could get. But instead, he was sitting at the bar while nursing a drink and wishing you weren’t busy. Your hotel room hullaballoo lasted throughout the entirety of the company meeting, Nellie having complained that she had to take her own notes, and they still haven’t found a spare room for you.

Jim even offered to bunk with you, but then you had mentioned that there was only one bed in every room that was given out, and you had asked with raised eyebrows whether he was fine with sharing a bed with you. Jim- who obviously was more than okay with sharing a bed with you- had stuttered and mumbled and eventually the consensus landed in the field of no, you wouldn’t end up rooming with him. Nor did you have time to be his Tallahassee buddy. Which was extremely unfortunate, since the majority of the reason he had been excited about this trip was you.

Jim jumped at a weird noise, glancing over to see Packer blowing onto Nellie’s face with Dwight making what was probably supposed to be seagull calls into her ear. Sighing, he finished the rest of the drink he was nursing and mumbled something to himself before getting up and heading for his room. Maybe the sooner they’re back in Scranton, the sooner he’ll be able to talk to you again at the receptionist desk like normal. That would be 100% better than anything that was going on in this hotel at the moment.

When he got to his room he had turned on the tv, flipping idly through until he landed on the channel showing an NBA game. He leans back, watching for a little while. He’s not really sure what else to do, he didn’t exactly plan anything aside from ‘See what Y/N is doing and follow them around while they do it’ except you had said waiting in the lobby of the hotel room was extremely boring and you wouldn’t want to put him through that. He had acquiesced- for some reason- and had wandered back to the bar. Thinking back on it now, if you were bored down there then the best thing he could do would be to sit with you and entertain you. How had that thought only just crossed his head?

He was reaching for the remote to turn the tv off when he heard a knock at the door. Redirecting his attention, he left the remote for a moment and went to go see who could possibly be visiting him.

“Hey!” Jim’s brows furrowed seeing Cathy standing there in front of him. “The heating in my room is going a bit wonky, do you think I could hang out here while they fix it?” Without waiting for an answer, Cathy pushes past Jim and into his room.

“O-okay,” Jim drags out the word, closing the door slowly and hesitantly following Cathy into his room.

“What do you have on? Some kind of game?” She jumps onto his bed, scooting near the middle with her back against the bedframe. Jim hesitates, nodding toward the tv.

“Yeah, y’know. The NBA.”

“O-oh, sounds fun,” She sings back, patting the spot beside her. Jim slowly lowers himself onto the corner of the bed, then lets himself continue sliding until he’s sitting on the floor in front of the tv.

“Yeah. Fun.”

“So how’s the night going? Retiring early already?” Jim felt a tap on his shoulder and glanced up to see Cathy laying on her stomach, her head at the foot of the bed and close to Jim. He clears his throat, subtly trying to scoot away. “Didn’t know you were such an old man, Halpert!”

“Yeah, well. You know me. Old man Halpert.”

“Maybe we could stay up a little longer together? Have a little fun?”

Jim jumps up, taking a few steps back from the bed with a stutter. “Oh, you know, actually I was planning on heading down to the lobby-”

“I can come?” She asks, pushing herself up to sit on her legs.

“No, I just meant-”

Another knock on the door interrupts him, and thanking god under his breath he practically ran to the door. “Stanley! You do not know how glad I am to see you!”

“Mmhmm,” Stanley hums, pushing past Jim and walking into his room.

“You should stay! We’re watching the NBA, it’ll be like a party!”

“I’m just here ‘cause I ran out of refreshments in my room.” Stanley straightens up, carrying every single little bottle of alcohol that the hotel provided Jim’s room. Jim watched him look directly at Cathy, then back at Jim with raised eyebrows. Stanley immediately begins his exit, calling out behind him, “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do!”

Jim glanced back toward Cathy on his bed, who only taps the bed beside her in an indication to sit down. Jim takes a big sigh, looking back to the tv immediately. He wanders over slowly, taking his position back on the floor.

“Oh! I wonder if you have-” Jim doesn’t hear the rest of it, glancing over to see what Cathy was doing only to be met with her rear-end as she completely bends over at the waist, digging through Jim’s closet. He turns his eyes to the ceiling of the hotel room. What was he supposed to do? Just kick her out? Why was he such a nice person that he didn’t want to hurt her feelings about all of this?

After some time, and Cathy making herself comfortable on Jim’s bed once more, Jim begins to stand and attempt his well-thought-out exit strategy once more.

“Actually, Cathy, I think I’m going to head down to the lobby-”

“Why?” Cathy stood on her knees on the bed, walking over toward the edge and placing a hand flirtatiously on his chest. “Is something the matter with your room?”

“Well- uh, no-”

“Then everything’s good! Come, sit with me!” Cathy jumps back once more, throwing the covers back and settling back in her spot, patting the open area next to her. Jim chokes for a moment, unsure what to do before pulling out his cell phone, and holding a finger up toward Cathy as if asking her to wait.

His plan to call Dwight into action, claiming he had seen a bed bug, hadn’t really worked out exactly as planned. If the plan had been for both Cathy and Dwight to be naked in his hotel room, then it actually went exactly as planned.

Jim was stepping outside of his room for a breather when he finally spotted you. He let out a long sigh, a fond smile lighting up his face without his permission. He wasn’t too worried about it anyway when a matching smile appeared on your face. You were standing near some person who looked to be wearing a hotel uniform, and he jogged over as the person entered the hotel room. “Hey! Did they get you situated finally?”

“Not completely sure?” You hesitated, shrugging at him. “They said they’ve been having some sort of appliance malfunctions on this floor so they need to make sure the room is okay for me to stay in. I asked to tag along, just in case.”

“Well, I hope it works out! Then you’ll be just down the hall from me!”

“Yeah! You could have a visitor for once!” You tease unknowingly, giggling. Jim’s face crashes though, and as he raises a hand to rub his face you begin to grow concerned. “Is everything alright?”

“Well if you count having a naked Dwight in my bed as alright-”

He’s cut off by your laughter, though you’re clearly trying to hold it back. You raised a hand to cover your mouth, and Jim can’t help but smile seeing you act so cute. You finally speak through your laughter, trying to hold yourself together. “Oh, well congratulations I guess? I gotta say, I didn’t see that coming. You and Dwight-”

“No, no, no,” Jim interrupts, laughing himself and shaking his head. You finally dissolve into laughter, and Jim lets the moment last a bit longer before finally explaining. “No, Cathy came into my room.”

“Cathy came by, and now you have a Dwight naked in your bed?” You seemed curious but confused, and Jim could feel his nose scrunch in adoration for you.

“Well, Cathy is naked in my shower so-”

“Oh!” You interrupt, and he could see your cheeks lighting up red. “Oh, I didn’t realize. You two-”

“No!” Jim calls out, probably a bit too loud and too quickly. He clears his throat, leaning closer to you and slumping his shoulders. “No, I mean, she obviously wants to. She told me her room was having heating problems and then has done everything in her power to flirt with me since pushing herself into my room. I’ve tried everything to be polite, I really don’t know what else to do.”

“And,” You begin, narrowing your eyes at him, “I’m still failing to see how a naked Dwight comes into play.” He laughs, then watches as your smile widens as he does.

“Well I kept trying to tell her I needed to leave, but she kept insisting I stayed. Then Stanley came by and stole my alcohol, and he was absolutely no help at all. So I called Dwight. Told him I saw a bed bug in my bed. He came through tearing my room apart, and Cathy said she was going to go take a shower in my room?” He rubs a hand across his face, shrugging. “Everything kinda devolved from there. He started stripping, saying he needed all the skin access he can have, that his body heat was going to attract the bed bugs to his body.”

“The bugs that- aren’t there?” You question, raising an eyebrow. He nods along and you laugh, shaking your head. You’re both quiet for a moment before you take a step toward him. Jim could feel his heart rate beginning to spike at your closeness. “But, help me out here. All this just because what? You don’t want to have sex with her?” Jim watched some sort of emotion cross over your face, though it was brief enough that he couldn’t quite catch it. “I mean, she seems like a good person?”

“She’s not the one I want though,” Jim mumbles, staring into your eyes. ‘Woah there, Jimboy,’ He thinks to himself, taking a deep breath to calm himself but only inhaling more of your scent, setting butterflies fluttering in his stomach. “I- I just mean, well. I like someone. And it’s not her.”

You were just opening your mouth to say something- ‘Anything, say anything,’ Jim pleaded in his head- when you were interrupted before you could even start.

“I tried my best, but I couldn’t get it to work. I don’t think this room is hospitable. I’m sorry.” You had turned around, taking a step away from Jim. He could finally breathe normally now, though he would still much rather be in your orbit than face the possibility of going back to his room to deal with things.

“Oh, that’s alright. I guess I can go see Tara back at check-in and see if she has anything else.” The disappointment in your voice had Jim’s chest clenching, and he reached forward to take your hand before you could walk away.

“My offer is still open, you know.” You laugh at him, shaking your head and pulling your hand away gently.

“What, stay with you and your two naked roommates?” Jim could feel his face begin to blush, and you shook your head once more. “Go have fun, Jim.” You walk away with an audible sigh, and Jim knew he would have done anything to make you happy again.

  ‘Go have fun, Jim,’ You mock back at yourself, shaking your head. ‘Yes, just tell your crush to go have sex with someone ‘willing and available,’ that’s the exact thing you need to be doing.’ You were currently sitting on the uncomfortable furniture in the check-in waiting area, balancing your briefcase on your knees and hoping desperately that everyone in Scranton that wanted your attention via phone had finally gone to bed. You hadn’t received a ‘super important’ not-so-important phone call for the last thirty minutes, so your hopes were beginning to look up.

“Excuse me, Y/L/N?”

“Yes?” You stumble as you stand, fumbling with your briefcase before finally catching it and dropping your phone. Thankfully, Tara waits patiently for you to pick up your phone as well before you rush over to her desk. She had been so helpful, and it had only taken you an hour of being in her company before remembering it was polite to ask about names.

“I’ve just got off the phone with-” She hesitates, glancing at her computer and scanning it before huffing and turning her attention back to you, “Well, doesn’t matter. They aren’t showing up, they told me as much. So we finally have a room available to you! I sent Max back up to check the room again, but if I remember correctly then this isn’t one of the ones having problems!”

“Oh, Tara, thank you so much!” You lean across the counter, and thankfully Tara meets you halfway for an awkward hug. She giggles as she backs away, leaning over and placing a card key on the counter.

“And it’s on the house, darling.”

“What? No, I couldn’t do that to you, Tara!”

“Look, with the whole misunderstanding, and then you having to stand here for hours and just wait around while that cute guy kept coming back trying to get your attention-”

“Wait, who, Jim?” You ask breathlessly, sliding the card into your hand. You laugh, though Tara seems unconvinced. “Oh, no, we’re just friends. It’s nothing like all that-”

“Sure, darling. Just take the room.”

“Thank you again!”

You back up, turning to quickly run into the room and almost knock directly into the camera guy that seems to have taken the position of following you around constantly. You sigh, nodding at the guy behind the camera before taking off quickly.

Your room was in the same hallway as Jim’s, and you weren’t sure yet whether you were going to curse the fact or thank Tara with an entire fruit basket. You were about to find out, though, now that you’d set your briefcase down and had taken a cursory look through the room. Making sure to have your card key on you, you exit the room at the end of the hallway and begin what felt like a walk of doom to where you knew Jim was staying- the room he had exited earlier in the night when you had almost been given a room and he had seen you.

As you were getting closer, you started hearing some kind of commotion. It sounded like muffled yells- then extremely loud screams as Jim’s door is flung open. A woman- Cathy- comes running out with a bedsheet held around her body, screaming and waving her free arm around her head as she pushes past you and runs down the hall. You hesitate, then take a few steps closer, just in time to hear Dwight’s mumbled voice.

“It’s not safe in here, Jim. I think you should room with Cathy for the night.”

You knock on the open door, peaking your head in to see Dwight with a facemask and large rubber gloves, holding two different spray bottles with some weird coloured liquids inside. Dwight was practically in Jim’s face, though at your knock they both turn to look at you. Dwight with exasperation, and Jim with nothing but relief.

“Y/N! Yes, please, save me from this nightmare.” He rushes toward you, taking one of your hands with both of his and practically drowning you with puppy dog eyes. You take in a quick breath before Dwight begins to crowd the both of you.

“No! Nope! No more bodies need to be added to the situation, go flirt outside.” Dwight slams the door closed behind the two of you, and you couldn’t help the small laugh that bubbles up.

“So, naked Cathy and Dwight turn into-”

“Naked Cathy running away clutching a bedsheet and a fully decked-out Dwight spraying my room with mysterious chemicals? I guess so.” You both laugh and you could feel your cheeks heating up at Jim’s attention. “But, seems like I just lost my room.”

“Oh, what a shame,” You mumble, waiting for him to look back into your eyes before your smile grows wider. “So sad… I have a blanket with all this room and no one to share it with.”

Jim’s face lights up and he starts looking up and down the hallway as if your room number would just jump out in front of him. “Wait you finally got a room? That’s amazing, Y/N!”

“We finally got a room,” You insist, then hesitate as he locks eyes with you again, “I mean, if you’re still-”

“Yes!” Jim jumps in, grinning. “I would love to. Should’ve said that to begin with.” You both laugh, and you lead him down the hall to your room. Once inside, Jim begins to take a look around while you grab the remote, pushing yourself onto your bed and settling your back against the bedframe. As you turn on the tv, you start flipping through the channels.

“Shouldn’t you go back and rescue your stuff from Dwight’s wrath?”

“I think I’ll give it a night to air out,” Jim mumbles, settling himself slowly at the head of your bed, scooting in to sit next to you. You settle your channel-flipping on some sort of basketball game. You didn’t know much about it yourself, but nothing else seemed interesting and you knew Jim liked the game.

“So,” You begin, turning your position to face Jim fully. “Tell me all about what happened.” He laughs in response, raising a hand to rub the back of his head.

“Oh, well. I basically told you everything already. After you left I went back to my room and Cathy had apparently decided not to put on any clothes and just jumped under the covers on my bed like she owned the place. I got really sick of all of her flirting, so I tried telling her straight to her face, ‘Cathy, I’m sorry but I’m not interested.’”

“Really? Appropriate, given the circumstances.”

“Yeah, I thought so too. She just looked at me like I was crazy and asked if that’s what I thought of her. If I thought she was a whore.” You gasped at the name and Jim nodded, turning to look at you more directly as well. “Of course, I said no. Then she just said ‘Okay good, that’s settled,’ and then continued to flirt with me!”

“No!” You gasped, laughing again. “You did everything including telling her you weren’t interested and she still kept pressing on!”

“Yeah! So I called Dwight back. He came running in with those spray bottles and she tried insisting she didn’t see anything, but when Dwight asked ‘Where’s the bug?’ I didn’t even think about it, I just pointed straight at her.” You widened your eyes, unconsciously scooting closer. You watched Jim track your movement, his grin widening. “She screamed when he started spraying her and jumped off the bed and I thought to myself, ‘Well she got that far, I wonder if she’ll go all the way?’ So then Dwight asked if I saw it and I kept pointing at the sheet she was clutching around herself and-”

“That’s why she ran screaming from your room!” You blurt out, placing your hand on his arm, and then you both begin laughing. “That’s horrible!”

“I know! How could Dwight do something like that!” You laugh harder, shaking your head. After you both manage to calm down, another thought strikes your mind.

“So,” You begin, biting your lip and unsure how to phrase this. “You kept saying that you were sending signals that you obviously didn’t want to do anything with her, right?” You look up toward him, watching his eyes track your lips, realising you're biting them again.

“Uh- well, yeah. Yeah, I did that. It was like she was blind or something.” Jim mumbled, the tips of his cheeks were turning pink and it looked way too nice on him. “Or just, y’know, deliberately ignoring them.”

“What were they?” You ask- mumble, more than anything. Jim hesitates for a second, tilting his head.

“What?”

“What were the signs?” You could see the moment it registers what you’re asking in his eyes when they slightly widen.

“Oh, well. When she originally came in, she jumped on my bed and patted the spot next to her. I ended up sitting on the very corner of it,” He turned to point at the corner of your own bed as if you needed an explanation, then turned back toward you. “But even that felt a bit too much like giving in so I just ended up sort of sliding onto the floor. The entire time she was there I was either standing or sitting on the floor at the end of the bed watching tv.”

“Oh,” You whisper, trying to keep a smile tampered down at the fact that Jim had unflinchingly sat right next to you at the head of the bed. “Well, what else?”

“She tried to bend over directly in front of me.”

“No,” You gasp, laughing again. You hear Jim chuckle a bit before he continues.

“Yeah. I just looked up the whole time, I didn’t want to disrespect her or anything. Then there were the innuendos.”

“O-oh,” You drew out, smirking at him. “Saying innuendos to one Jim Halpert. I’m surprised you could resist her.” He’s quiet after, staring into your eyes. You begin to worry you said the wrong thing before he finally speaks up, his voice sounding a little rough.

“Yeah, maybe if it wasn’t her saying them.” You bite your lip, watching him momentarily before looking away and pretending to watch basketball.

“So what kinds of things did she say then?” As you finally glance back Jim just shrugs, looking quickly at the tv. Was he trying to pretend he wasn’t staring at you? Had he been staring at you? You bite your lip once again, thinking hard. “Ohh, I’m just so cold.” You tried to push your voice into a sultry tone and felt satisfied when Jim turned suddenly, his eyes wide and cheeks red.

“What?”

“That was one of the things she tried, right?” You asked, indicating what you had meant by saying that. You could feel Jim slowly relaxing against you and- wait, against you? When had the two of you got so close that your arms were resting against each other? Your faces were even closer than you remembered and you were beginning to get lost in his eyes.

“Y/N?” You blink a few times, realizing you had zoned out for a moment. If he had answered you, you had definitely missed it.

“Yeah?” You couldn’t help how breathless your voice sounded, and you could only hope that Jim wouldn’t realize why and then leave.

“Are you cold?” His voice was low and rough again and distracted you from the words he said for a few beats too long. Even after, his words had your brain scrambling to a halt, and you could feel your mouth opening and closing- gaping like a fish. How attractive. And yet, through all this Jim maintained how close he was to you. How he was slightly hunching over, his face closer to yours than it maybe should’ve been.

“I- yes,” You answer, nodding your head slowly, in obvious disbelief. “Yes, I’m cold.”

“Would you like help to warm up?” Jim was already shifting slowly, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you in closer to him.

“Yes, I- I would,” You stutter out, pushing yourself slowly down to lay your head on his chest. Once the both of you were settled, you were essentially laying together on your hotel bed and were cuddling. You were laying on Jim, you could feel his chest rising and falling with breath, and you had your arms wrapped around him to hold him close and he was letting you.

Maybe this trip didn’t turn out so bad after all.

[scoops-aboy86]

🧠🪱Wiggly Wednesday🪱🧠

No one tagged me, I just had a brain worm on account of the @softsteddieseptember prompt “cheesy pickup lines” for this week. But this isn’t really an entry, just an outline that I don’t have the brainpower for right now. 

Steve is an actor who always gets what (who) he wants. He’s kind of been a fuckboy about it in the past, but his best friend and frequent co-star Robin is a good influence on him, helped him come to terms with and come out as bisexual and everything. 

Eddie is a computer programmer with a part time job as a barista, and has what he definitely feels is the misfortune to make Steve’s ridiculously customized latte. 

The latte isn’t foamy enough or something. Actually, it’s just that Steve has taken an interest and wants to get to know the cute barista, likes that Eddie doesn’t even recognize him from his movies at first. 

Eddie says something about his computer programming work, and Steve laughs and calls him a nerd, which does not go over well. 

Steve comes back most days whenever he’s in town, trying to salvage it, but Eddie is firmly convinced it’s unsalvageable, a nonstarter in the first place. No matter how disappointed he always feels on the days Steve doesn’t show, or how much he ends up telling Steve about his life in between rejections.

At some point Robin shows up at the cafe to let Eddie know she’s sorry he has to put up with her hopeless bff’s low-key stalking and that she’s trying to talk Steve into a long filming project in Europe to chill out, so he’ll soon be out of Eddie’s hair. 

Something something, idk, maybe Steve talked about Eddie to Dustin, who works in computers or something and needs a new programmer. Dustin reaches out to offer an interview while Steve is off incommunicado on set, totally Dustin’s own idea, Steve is just the reason he knows how to find the guy. Eddie gets the job purely on merit from that point and gets to quit working at the cafe, all his money problems are now solved. 

By the time Steve gets back, Eddie is close with Dustin and the rest of the kids, Hellfire Club style. They all think he’s the coolest. Also, they end up telling him a bunch of stories about Steve and how he used to be kind of a douchebag but has since grown into a really good dude. And even more recently (which Eddie eventually realizes means since he and Steve first met) has cooled it on dating around and ended up in a lot fewer gossip mags and tabloids, which has generally been pretty good for his mental health. 

Steve comes by one of their game nights and is caught completely unaware off guard. But he takes Eddie aside and apologizes for hanging around so much before. 

Eddie forgives him. Really, the worst Steve ever did was greet him with increasingly silly pickup lines and offer to show him a good time, only to leave with a shrug and his latte when Eddie turned him down again. Always tipped everyone at the cafe well, not just Eddie, and never made him feel like he expected anything because of it.

Steve points out that (*gestures the Party*) most of his favorite people are nerds, he’d just put his foot in his mouth like a dumbass that first day. (He does not mention that he used to get really defensive when people noticed/called him out on that, he’s come so far! Robin is so proud, even though he’s still definitely a dingus.)

Anyway, they start to part on good terms. Just before heading out, though Steve turns with a huge grin that Eddie recognizes and says, “Hey, since we’re starting off on a different foot now, let me introduce myself… My name is Microsoft. Can I crash at your place tonight?” 

Eddie stares at him, then laughs so hard that his face hurts. 

He finally takes Steve up on that date. 

Did I write all that up for the cheesy pickup punchline? Absolutely.

Do I wanna write the actual fic? Nah. So it’s up for grabs if anyone else wants to, just tag me so I can read it someday.

Tagging… idk, my permanent tag list I guess. 😛 I’m stuck in a car for 6 more hours (out of 11), gotta get this pasted in before I lose reception again.

@hotluncheddie @lawrencebshoggoth @sofadofax @irishvampireboy @oatmilk-vampire

@wheneverfeasible @hamiltonswiftie @grtwdsmwhr @yesdangerpls @theseaofdespair

[lostbetweenvampiresandmusic]

Hii!! I absolutely love your stories!! Could you maybe write something with Paul x reader including the prompts 5 and 3 from the prompt list? Just a fun and playful interaction between the two. Something silly, cuz he's a silly little guy:)

3. What do I taste like?

5. Oh, bite me.

Ah thank you so much! I hope you'll enjoy this!💜

---------------------------

The evening sky was unusually bright tonight, stars and galaxies both visible with the naked eye. I stared up at the stars, smiling as I recognised the big dipper and Orion. My head rested on Paul's chest, quite comfortably, as he played with my hair.

"What does blood taste like?"

Paul stopped, his hand stuck on some tangles. "Like blood, I guess?"

"Paul, you know what I mean. If I have a wound on my finger and I put it in my mouth, I taste metal. Don't tell me you actually have to drink metal juice to survive?"

He chuckled, leaning up a bit, resting on his elbows.

"It depends on what they've been eating."

"So if someone eats chocolate all the time, you get a chocolaty taste?"

He shrugged. "Kind of? But blood just tastes like blood. Not like when you're human."

"Is it good?"

"Wouldn't be drinking it otherwise."

He laid back down, right as I moved to sit up. I looked at him.

"You'd be dead if you didn't drink it."

"Undead, darling. Undead."

I sighed, smiling. "But what you eat does influence the taste?"

He nodded. "Worst one I ever had was when I had a meal one time that only ever ate fish?"

I pulled a face. Not just the thought of fish tasting blood was disgusting but the idea of only ever eating fish? No thanks.

"Yeah, don't drain sharks." He nodded as if he had just given me the wisdom of a man who had seen everything. Well, he probably had seen a lot, but I don't think I would consider this wisdom per se.

"A shark?"

"What? Oh you thought I was talking human?"

"Oh, bite me." I couldn't help but grin. "Asshole."

He chuckled, shaking his head. "Nah, human is pretty good. No matter the blood type."

"Good to know."

It was quiet for a moment, both of us laying down in the grass, staring up at the starcovered sky.

"What do I taste like?" I asked softly.

"I don't know."

"I'm curious."

"I mean, your kisses taste amazing - I like the bubblegum you use. But bloodwise?"

"Aren't you curious?"

He shrugged. "Maybe a little. But I know that if you change and let me be the one to do it, I'll get a taste of it anyways."

"Ah. You got it all planned out, hm?"

"Absolutely." He grinned. "You smell delicious, though, so I wouldn't worry about taste."

"Good." I grinned.

[solarwonux]

Business Proposal || knj (5/?)

pairing: namjoon x f!reader || ex friends to lovers!au friends to lovers!au

Genre: fluff, angst, smut, slow burn, fwb!au, non idol!au, unrequited love

Warnings: slow burn, angst lots and lots and lots and lots of angst. Jealousy.

Rating: mature, 18+

w.c: 8.3 k

Synopsis: Namjoon is living on borrowed time, and it’s time to cash in. His father is months from taking his last breathe and his life long dream is to watch his oldest son say “I do.”

prev || next || m.list

a/n: I’m sorry I’ve been taking so long to respond to all the lovely messages I’ve gotten on this story. Also I’m sorry I’ve taken so long to upload, but thank you to those who have stuck around. And thank you for for the 3k! It means so much to me!

Anyway I hope you enjoy this part, pls lmk your thoughts I’m late at responding but I read them all no matter what!

Ever since you can remember, Jimin has always been by your side.

He’s a constant. He’s comfortable. He’s the same.

Nothing much has changed about him, other than the obvious. He grew into his features, he’s leaner and muscular. But nothing about him has changed. He’s still the same person you grew up with. He’s passionate, stubborn, and funny in his own way. You suppose he is a bit more outspoken and confrontational–in a good way, but those are add ons to traits that were already there. He marches to the beat of his own drum but never falls out of line.

He’s always been warm, generous, and familiar.

Jimin was the little boy on your first day of school with the sixty-four pack of crayola crayons. He was the little boy who sat in between you and Taehyung and shared said crayons because his parents always taught him the importance of sharing. He was the boy who wanted to make everyone feel included. Who kissed both you and Taehyung at your seventh grade dance to eliminate any humiliation, because that was the year first kisses were the only subject of conversation amongst your peers.

It was the year the words “prude” and “goody two shoes” decorated everybody’s vocabulary.

It was the year the “no kiss list” went around with yours and Taehyung’s name on it. To your surprise Jimin’s name was absent. Which prompted a very confusing and anger inducing conversation between the three of you, because first kisses were monumental. They were a right of passage and how dare he not tell the two of you that he kissed Ariana–the prettiest and most popular girl at school in a kissing booth at the local state fair.

To save face he decided to redeem himself. The rumors that came out afterwards were far worse than the list, but at least the three of you weren’t lip virgins anymore.

Seventh grade was also known as The War of The Hormones year. Somehow everybody was confused, everybody was angsty, everybody was horny. Bodies were changing, feelings were changing, and Jimin realized that maybe he liked you a little more than a friend would like a friend. But like always, Jimin was nice. He knew about your crush on your school's star athlete so he kept his feelings to himself. Until eventually the flame blew out.

At least that’s what he thought. Junior year of college was a confusing time for him. The two of you had your fair share of “relationships” that should be more appropriately categorized as “flings” because they never really went anywhere.

Except for one–your ex–someone he never liked. There was just something he couldn’t really pinpoint, but he was strange. He would tell you he loved you but he never demonstrated it. You always argued that he had his own way of showing you love. It angered Jimin because to him you were the brightest person in the world. You deserved someone who shined just as bright as you. You deserved someone better.

His suspicions were proven right when you called him before your tutoring session with Namjoon crying. That bastard was a good for nothing asshole who knocked everybody down in order to rise to the top.

It seems like you have a type, because he can’t completely understand why after everything that has happened you have decided to marry Namjoon. He can’t completely understand when, where and how it all happened? He just knows that he doesn’t deserve you, hell, Jimin is fully aware that even he doesn’t deserve you.

Still, Jimin knows you. He knows how calculated and meticulous you are. So, there must be a good reason. At least that’s what he was telling himself the entire two weeks he decided to build a bridge between the two of you. He’s turned every possible answer in his head for nights on end, and he always ended up coming up short. He supposes it’s because he can’t–no–he doesn’t want to face the truth.

That you will never choose him.

Yet, in this very moment as he toys with his mint chocolate ice cream–an acquired taste he admits watching as you hum in delight with every spoonful of Twinberry Cheesecake. He can’t help but believe that maybe this time you did choose him.

The prominent question is aching at the tip of his tongue. He wants to ask, but you’re finally back on Earth and not running lost somewhere in your thoughts. Your tears have dried up and although your eyes are still a bit swollen the sparkle has returned to them. He’s afraid that if he asks you’ll return back to your gray cloud.

“I moved in with Namjoon.” You decide for him as the comment sparks his interest. He digs his spoon into the melting ice cream ball and looks up. He’s aware the hurt is evident in his eyes, but he’s run out of tools to mask it.

“So, you’re really marrying him.” The dry chuckle escapes him and he cringes. He didn’t mean to sound so mean, but he’s past the point of carrying.

You shake your head, putting your spoon down. “Not necessarily. It’s a bit more complicated than that.”

Jimin’s patience is wearing thin. Maybe that’s the one thing that has changed about him. Ever since the facebook status notification, he finds his patience regarding you diminish with every passing day. “Then explain it to me because I am not following it.”

You scoff, crossing your arms in front of you. “If you weren’t so pissy the day you came into the flower shop you would know the truth. It was Taehyung’s movie night. I was going to tell the two of you that night but you came in with your accusations and speculations and didn’t let me talk.”

“What was I supposed to do?”

“You could’ve listened to me.” You respond sadly, moving around the last bit of your ice cream in the cardboard cup.

He sighs defeated and leans his body forward. “I am listening now.”

“We are engaged but we aren’t getting married.” You start slowly. Jimin can’t hide his confusion and it almost makes you laugh. It would’ve made you laugh if you weren’t so exhausted over everything that has happened these past weeks. “It’s all for show. His dad is dying and he wants Namjoon to get married before he passes. Otherwise he will write him out of the will, and his job and inheritance is somehow tied to this. Basically if he doesn’t show signs of settling down any time soon he can kiss his livelihood goodbye.” You finish. It’s the best you could do to explain it in easy terms, because if you were being honest there are things you didn’t understand yourself.

Jimin squints, swiping his tongue across his bottom lip. The way he did whenever he was thinking hard on something. “Okay, so, how do you fall into this?”

Quickly, you eat a spoonful of your ice cream. The sugary sweetness does little to hide your nerves. This is the part you didn’t want to explain. Although your decision to accept made sense to you, you’re aware that it won’t be the case for other people. And sometimes Jimin can be unpredictable, but most of all a little bit judgmental.

Behind his calm and warm exterior laid a nasty monster. He had no filter sometimes and he could be a little bit brutal. It’s one of the reasons why you couldn’t see him as more than a friend. You needed a partner who understood you whether right or wrong. Jimin was not that, he’s so ingrained in his thoughts and beliefs that he has a hard time trying to understand anything outside of that.

“I’m a professor at HYBE U.” You whisper, looking down at your now melted ice cream. The cheesecake chunks are just floating around while the twinberry syrup swirls into the milk. It looks like how you feel. Rough.

Jimin’s eyes look like they’re about to fall out of his sockets. He knew you applied for the job a month after spending months perfecting your resume. He feels a sense of pride rise in him but it’s soon replaced with confusion. “Congratulations, but I’m not following what does that have to do with Namjoon?” He tilts his head pushing his own cardboard cup away.

“He’s the one who offered me the job, and the one who is paying for half of my student loans and the one who is giving me a house.”

It’s hard to catch Jimin off guard. He’s always suspecting and waiting for the next person that’s hiding behind the corner. But you’ve always managed to leave him speechless. This time it’s different. He’s not speechless because of his infatuation for you. He’s speechless because this is something he never once expected from you.

“So he’s basically your sugar daddy.” He deadpans, shaking his head in disbelief before crossing his arms in front of him. “I can’t believe you. I commend sex work that’s fine but I never once thought you’d be one.”

You roll your eyes, pushing your cup away and leaning forward. Maybe if you close the gap between the two of you he will understand that not everything a woman did to get ahead in life involved sex. It’s an argument you’ve had with him before.

“I’m not fucking him. I literally just live with him now and act like his fiance in front of people. Otherwise he lives his life and I live my life separately.” You spit out, leaning back into your chair when you’re done.

Jimin sighs running a hand down his face, This conversation was a lot more taxing than he thought it would be. “Got it.” He raises his hands up in surrender. “But that still doesn't explain why you called me in the middle of a panic attack tonight.”

You nod, “He kissed me. We were arguing and he kissed me.” You flat out say. Jimin closes his fist, gripping the fabric of his jeans. He won’t lie, he wants to runway, scream, or punch something. Anything that will help him release the overwhelming stream of emotions that are running through him.

“I’m going to fucking kill him.” He seethes and he’s about to stand up, but you grab his arm and pull him back down. He’s never seen a more serious expression on your face. You look more ready to kill than he did.

“No you’re not. It was a mistake. The two of us just need to cool down and then hopefully we’ll talk about it. I don’t need you to fight my battles for me Jimin.”

“So, you’re just going to go back to living with him?”

“Where else am I going to live Jimin? That’s my home for now.” You exclaim throwing your hands up in his head.

“But he took advantage of you remember the las–”

“I reciprocated.” You interrupt and before he can get anymore of his comments in you continue. “I don’t know how to get you and Jungkook to know that what happened last time won’t happen again.”

He was a fool to believe that you had finally chosen him.

His heart breaks even more than the night at Taehyung’s party when he confessed his feelings to you. It breaks even more than the morning he woke up to the facebook notification. He didn’t know there was anything left to break and yet here it was shattering into millions of little pieces.

For years he’s had you tucked into his wing afraid of seeing you hurt again. For years he’s prided himself in being the only person you let into your bed and touch in a way exclusively reserved for lovers. For years he’s believed that one day you will be his.

He’s been lying to himself for years. As much as you don’t want to admit it. Your heart has always and will always belong to Kim Namjoon. That is something he will just have to live with. If there’s anything he has learned in the past two weeks where he’s distanced himself from you, and in the past thirty minutes that he’s had this conversation with you.

Is that you’re stronger than what everyone believes and that having you as a friend was better than not having you at all.

“Okay.” He acknowledges with a slight nod of his head. “You’re right. I’m sorry.”

“That’s okay.” You finally smile up at him and he hates how it makes his stomach do summersaults. “But can I ask you for one more favor?” You pout, batting your eyelashes at him and he laughs.

“Go ahead.”

“Can I sleep over until Monday?.”

“Sure but you’re taking the couch.”

In the end, you ended up sleeping in Jimin’s bed. It was a petty argument that lasted about five minutes. He insisted you take his bed while he took the couch. Which neither of you did because you ended up sleeping together in the same bed. In a very friendly and platonic kind of way. With a pillow in between and different comforters.

It felt a little strange for the two of you to not be locked in each other's arms. But it was a boundary that needed to be implemented. As much as you and Namjoon like to tell yourselves and each other that this was just all for show.

Jimin knows better. He’s witnessed the two of you grow into each other from the sidelines. Your feelings for the other party were there and even if Namjoon liked to believe otherwise. His feelings were there, only hidden deep, deep, deep within him.

It’s the reason why Jimin was so angry with the way he handled your confession. It was unfair to you. You weren’t crazy and you weren’t reading into things. His actions were those of love not of friendship. Maybe this time, he’ll be able to finally admit to himself that you were always the one for him.

At least that’s what he hopes. He can’t promise staying away if he lets you go this time around.

“Do you have everything?” Jimin taps his steering wheel with his thumb. You’re in his passenger shaking from nerves.

It’s now Monday, your first day of school. The dreadful day being one you thought you left in the past when you graduated. Though, this time it’s different. This time you’re an educator. The first day of school butterflies were shaking you to the core.

You smooth down the hem of your checkered wool skirt. Unfortunately you had left a lot of your winter clothes at Jimin’s house. So, a nice wool jacket and skirt duo, with one of Jimin's black satin dress shirts was what you had to work with for your first day of school outfit.

You’re praying you don’t die of heat.

“I think so.” You say checking down your mental checklist. “I’m only missing my laptop but my office has a desktop so I’ll be fine today.” You nod, slightly slapping your thighs to hype yourself up.

You feel bad as you made your best friend wake up early to drive you to work, a full hour before you had to actually clock in. You feel bad that you’ve made him sit in the parking lot, witnessing it fill up with sleepy students arriving for their morning classes.

“Alright, if you need anything I’m a text away. And don’t forget you’re meeting Tae for lunch. He’s going to have your head for not telling him everything sooner.” He chuckles, reaching over and squeezing your shoulder gently in reassurance.

You roll your eyes, playfully shrugging his hand away. “How was I, the two of you are two peas in a pod. If you’re pissed he’s pissed and vice versa.” You grumble, grabbing your coat and bag. You’ve been doing this at least five times.

Jimin has asked you the same question literally five times. A tiny hint that it was time for you to finally leave. Not that he was annoyed with you, he was just worried you’d be late. Jimin might not have attended HYBE U but you and Taehyung did, and he frequently visited the two of you when he could. He knows how big the campus is and he knows that the two of you are on the completely other side of your department.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever I’ll text in an hour to apologize again.”

He receives a pointed glare before you open his car door. He guesses you've finally talked yourself up long enough. Unless, you’re going to close the door again and then that will bring the two of you back to square one.

“I’ll call you if anything.” You say and step out, shrugging on your coat and grabbing your bag.

“Good luck, you’re going to fucking kill it.” He smiles giving you a thumbs up. “I’m proud of you.”

“Thanks dad.” You joke, rolling your eyes as you close the door. His laughter rings just as loudly as it would have if the car door was open. You look at him one last time, giggling as he sends you numerous finger hearts. That’s all the motivation you need to finally break through the barrier of nerves. You send him a heart back and turn around, adjusting the leather strap of your purse, hardening your features.

The show must go on.

Your office isn’t big, but it isn’t small either. It's the perfect size for you. As an added bonus it overlooks the beautiful view of the student parking lot, and it’s on a different floor than Namjoon’s. Which means it’s perfect because you can prolong seeing your fake fiancé for as much as possible.

At least that’s what you thought.

After your first class of the day, which went amazing. You forgot all about your nerves the second you stepped into the gloomy classroom. You assume you were well received by your students given that they laughed at all of your stupid little jokes, and didn’t hesitate to add into the class discussion, which was more than what you could ask for. On your way back to the office you were still reeling on the high of standing in front of at least twenty rhetoric students.

The minute you entered your office to get ready to make a few tweaks to your lesson plan. The infamous philosophy professor was standing behind your desk, looking out of the window, hands in the pocket of his slacks, while he tapped his foot against the outdated carpet.

When he heard the door close behind you. He turned around a stoic expression on his face. The high you were feeling from earlier, quickly morphed into the little prickles of your nerves, traveling up your arms and spine.

He looked like he was ready to kill.

“You left this at home.” He broke the silence, taking one of his hands out of his pocket, extending it out to you. He unraveled his fist revealing your engagement ring. “Wouldn’t want people to talk when they don’t see you wearing it.” He added, circling around your desk and walking closer. The only thing keeping the two of you apart was his extended hand, a free invitation to do what you wanted at this moment. He was giving you the choice, an out. You weren’t sure if it was good or bad.

You decide quickly and  take the ring from him and silently slip it onto your ring finger. “Thanks I–”

“How was your first class?” He cuts you off, taking a few steps back until he is leaning against one of the burgundy lounge chairs in front of your desk. He crosses his arms in front of him and looks away from you, around your empty office. For some reason this action makes you feel a little self conscious. There’s no personality, except for when you’re inside, but it still screams amateur.

You cough to clear your throat, clasping your hands in front of you. “It went well I had a lo–”

“When’s your last class?” He interrupts you again. You have to tighten the grip of your hands to prevent yourself from yelling out at him. Why was he being extra annoying today? And most importantly why was he acting so strange?

Maybe he still hasn’t cooled off from what happened on Saturday night, because there’s no other reason as to why he would be keeping himself occupied with his surroundings rather than focusing his attention on you. As much as you and Namjoon didn’t get along, he never avoided eye contact. He always felt that it was rude to be looking somewhere else when having a conversation with someone. Yet, here he was keeping himself occupied with the one plant Jimin gifted you sitting on your empty bookshelf. His gaze zeroing in on the little handwritten note.

Fighting, Princess. - PJM x

You can almost hear the audible scoff he lets out when he picks it up to read it closer.

“Four,” he looks up, eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “My last class is at four.” You clarify and he nods, carelessly throwing the card onto your desk and pushing himself off the chair.

“Mine is at eight. I’ll see you at home.” He clears his throat, and buttons up the suit jacket. Without so much as a glance he exits your office. It’s not until your door is closed when you finally let out the breath you didn’t know you had been holding in the entire time. But you’re confused, it’s like a newly built wall has surrounded him. He’s harder and tougher, there’s nothing on his face that gives off the indication that he’s lightened up since Saturday or that he is still upset.

There’s nothing.

Namjoon lied.

His last class wasn’t at eight. At least not on Monday, Tuesday, Wednesdays, Fridays. His last class on those days was at two. They were his favorite days because he had the freedom to do whatever he wanted after work. The possibilities were endless, and useless because if he wasn’t at work he was at the gym. If he wasn’t at the gym he was locked up in his home office working on his research.

Research that he was behind on because his mind was occupied on other things.

Other people.

You and Jimin.

Ever since you left on Saturday, Namjoon has tried to do what he does best.

Avoid, avoid, avoid. Bury his head in his research until he can no longer take it. Until it suffocates him enough that he has no other choice but to come up for air. Well…at least that’s what he tried to do, but every time he sat in front of his laptop, glasses perched on the tip of his nose, surrounded by books, journals and notes. His thoughts always zeroed in on the exact moment you ran into Jimin’s arms.

That’s when he starts to spiral, and he ends up seeing nothing but red. The anger consumes him until he’s breathless and sweating, his body consumed with exhaustion, on the floor of Jin’s boxing gym.

He supposes he should be thankful that the overzealous trainer didn’t pry him for questions when he showed up at his doorstep both Saturday and Sunday morning and night. Instead, he wordlessly let him in. Led him to the empty ring and helped him take out his frustration. Each punch he landed brought upon a different emotion.

Anger, confusion, and sadness.

Each punch that he received brought out a different core memory he had kept tucked away. His mothers death, Jungkook and his mother suddenly appearing in his life, the pressure he felt to be perfect, his first love, his first heartbreak, you.

He was exhausted from putting up a facade all the time. He can’t remember the last time he let his walls down, so after being practically beaten up by Jin numerous times he decided that enough was enough. That he would at least try. It is why he was waiting in your office. Namjoon is smart enough to know that a clean slate with you would never be possible. There’s too much history between the two of you. Too many words that were said and left unsaid.

He finally came to his senses after Jin scolded him in a headlock and Namjoon decided to offer you an olive branch.

Then he saw the plant, the handwritten message, and the initials. Instantly he was seeing red again. His plan to welcome you into his home—your home—again flew out the window. His plan to cook you the only dish he knew he couldn’t fuck up—spaghetti aglio e olio—lay forgotten in the back of his mind. Along with the jittery trip to the only grocery store by his house that was still open past two in the morning. And the talk he planned to have with you, to lay it all out in the open. But it was all left in the abyss of his mind the minute he locked eyes with the stupid plant.

He couldn’t even explain the proper care routine you would need to adopt to keep it alive because his pride was bigger than his ego. So he came up with an excuse more for himself because he needed to calm himself down before seeing you at home.

Now, it’s close to lunch time, and he’s hiding out in his office trying to grade the student papers he’s put off for the past week. He saw you in the student parking lot while walking back from grabbing his instant coffee packets he had left in his car. You were getting into a forest green Lamborghini.

Taehyung’s car. It only made his anger worse because the one thing Namjoon truly knows about Taehyung without a shred of a doubt is that wherever he goes, Jimin goes. You used to express your annoyance over it back in college because you always felt left out. The bond they had with each other was one you could never understand, and to be fair Namjoon never understood where you were coming from. FOMO wasn’t a thing he ever suffered from because he didn’t allow himself to have a friendship similar to yours with Taehyung and Jimin.

Yet, now he thinks he can begin to understand why you were always in a bad mood when they went on best friend dates without you. He thinks he’s suffering from the same thing because a part of him craves for your attention. He wants you to be laughing at something he says instead of whatever you were laughing about while getting into Taehyung’s car. He’s never seen you laugh that way, so genuine and full of spirit that his stomach begins to twist again when he remembers what he witnessed almost an hour ago. So much so that he’s been reading the same fucking paragraph for thirty minutes.

Namjoon’s thoughts are stuck on the plant, the laugh and the kiss he stole from you Saturday night. He knows he shouldn’t have kissed you at the same time. The part of him he never lets shine doesn’t regret it. That part only regrets the way it happened.

That part regrets ever letting you walk away in the first place.

“So, how does it feel being all boo’d up?” Taehyung questions, cocking an eyebrow. His way of teasing you makes you roll your eyes.

It took him exactly twenty minutes since he picked you up to ask. You should’ve known lunch with Taehyung was going to turn out to be as destructive as it was currently going.

Not only did he drive through the streets like he was in a game of Grand Theft Auto. He’s been doing what he knows how to do best. Stick his perfect nose in everybody’s business.

He scoffs when instead of answering his prying question you take a bite out of your Banh Mi sandwich. “Come on, you have to give me something. It’s the least you can do for lying to me.” He pouts, crossing his arms in front of him.

You swallow. “First I didn’t lie, second, I’m not boo’d up, and third you’re annoying.”

“That’s not fair. I saw a movie where two people were fake dating and then they ended up together.” He retorts, jabbing a finger in your direction before taking a bite out of his burrito.

“That’s a movie.” You deadpan.

He shrugs, looking at you as if you’re the one being irrational. “So?”

“So, it’s never going to happen?” You say exasperated. Maybe agreeing to go on a lunch date with your hopeless romantic of a best friend truly was a bad idea. Hey may be a player and a very eligible bachelor, but he loves love more than anyone you have ever known.

His inability in finding ‘the one’ whatever that means to Taehyung is what feeds his struggling artist persona. It’s the main reason why he hasn’t settled down even if he wanted to. He’s afraid of losing his art, the thing that keeps him alive.

“You’re in denial. There’s history between you and Namjoon. Someone is bound to break first and by what Jimin told me. It will be him.” He says mapping out with his hands like it’s the most complicated concept in the world.

Your eyes almost fall out of their sockets from how wide they get. You should’ve known Jimin would tell Taehyung everything the minute he got the chance to. “That rat.” You seethe.

Taehyung laughs, reaching his hand across the table and patting your palm lightly. “There, there, it’s not your fault he told me. I was drunk on Saturday and I needed a ride home but I didn’t want to wait for a cab. After he told me he couldn’t. I basically accused him of sleeping with someone and he broke. But like what else was I supposed to think. Little man hasn’t been getting out there since he found out he was in love with you. So I wanted to congratulate him, you know.”

“If this is your way of making me feel better… it’s not.” You send him a glare which makes his smile get even bigger.

“Maybe I want you to just feel a little bit guilty because I told you so.” He smirks, playing with the friendship ring your wear on your thumb.

The three of you have one. Made it together the weekend of his party. It was the day he finally came to terms with the semantics of yours and Jimin’s confusing relationship. If he had known the events that would unfold that night, he would’ve never pushed Jimin to confess his true feelings for you in the first place.

Maybe the real reason why he had avoided you after the whole Facebook status update was because in part he felt guilty for his best friend’s broken heart.

You weren’t the only one he had avoided.

When you don’t retaliate with a snarky comment he squeezes your hand. You’re looking down at your unfinished food and he knows your appetite is gone. Despite learning time and time again to keep his mouth shut he never seems to get it quite right.

“Hey, I’m sorry. I know you and Min talked it out and I know why you’re going through with the whole fake engagement, but please be careful.” He expresses turning the ring over in slow circles. “I know I don’t know Namjoon as well as you and Kook do but I know he’s not the easiest person to be around. He seems to be as emotionally constituted as a roach. And I don’t want my other best friend to be broken-hearted too.” He ends, retrieving his hand, setting it on his lap.

You grin, nodding your head. “Do roaches even have emotions?” You tilt your head to the side.

His famous boxy smile sneaks its way onto his face. “I don’t know, that’s why I said it.”

You giggle, raising your hands in defeat. “Noted.” You pick up your sandwich and take a bite out of it.

“Now enough about your sexy philosophy professor fake fiancé. How was your first day of school sweetheart, make any new friends?”

You roll your eyes, smiling brightly. Finally a subject you’ve been dying to talk about.

“You’re so fucking annoying.”

There was an upside to staying at work past hours. At least that’s what Namjoon kept telling himself when he was finally able to breeze through all his grading. Time went by as the stack of papers lessened, but the hammering in his heart only increased. His mind wouldn’t stop and it didn’t help that he was on his third americano. Sure he could’ve let out some steam at the gym, but his body ached and Jin had basically banned him for a week.

“You can’t always avoid your problems Joonie.” Jin had said out of breath, hands on his knees while he looked at him through sweaty bangs.

Namjoon hated that the self-proclaimed chef slash boxer was right. Yet, there he was pacing around his office. There weren’t any more papers to grade. It was past eight, and Namjoon could only hope that by the time he got home you would be locked away in your room.

That way he could continue to avoid his problems. Or avoid the problem he had created.

The only issue was that Namjoon wasn’t born lucky, just privileged. When he got home you were in the living room following along with an at home Pilates workout video. The aircon was off so you were dripping with sweat. Namjoon had to physically swallow the lump that had formed in his throat three times. But you were too distracted to notice so he assumed he could pass through his living room and into his office unscathed.

Wrong.

Namjoon bumped into the corner of his couch. Then stubbed his toe against the corner table, which caused the small vase containing a single yellow tulip to come crashing down on his hard wooden floor. The broken glass pieces scattered everywhere, cutting off your concentration and instantly finding his alarmed gaze.

Not only was Namjoon born unlucky. He was also born an absolute klutz. And not the cute quirky ones the jocks in every teen movie fell for. The kind that destroyed everything in its path.

Exhibit A: the vase.

Exhibit B: your trust.

“You’re back.” You say, sitting crossed legged on your baby blue yoga mat. The video was long forgotten playing in the background, while you tilted your head waiting for his answer.

“Yeah sorry for bothering you.” He said, leaning down, starting to slowly gather the pieces of broken glass. He tried to keep himself busy to avoid your presence but then he spotted the single droplet of sweat drawing a path down your neck, the middle of your chest and eventually disappearing behind your baby blue workout tank.

He swallows thickly.

For the second time that day he mentally cursed out Jin for banning him from going to the gym. Namjoon could physically feel his body shake and start to overheat. He needed to let out some steam and sort out all these confusing thoughts he’s been having since seeing you in the morning.

Namjoon always thought you were pretty. Like the innocent girl next door type of pretty. He never saw you as anything more or harbored any sort of sexual attraction towards you. The thought absolutely repulsed him back then because you were like his little sister. He could easily fall asleep next to you and wake up fine. He could talk to you about anything and everything and be your friend because there was nothing there.

In simple terms you weren’t his type and that was okay. So, Namjoon can’t really understand everything that’s happening. He can’t understand where the kiss, the jealousy, the lust, and the anger is stemming from. You are the same Plain Jane he tutored back then. The only slight difference is that you’re a little more confident and your hair is shorter. Your sense of style has matured a little but it doesn’t lack the fun and casual you sometimes opted for. It’s what makes you look younger than what you really were. You had this young aura surrounding you and Namjoon had never been attracted to that.

He just thinks he needs to get laid, and fast. Maybe he’ll text that pretty brunette chemistry professor. What was her name again? Rochelle, Rachel, Ray? Whatever it was he wasn’t planning on doing much talking. She’s kind and his type, familiar and most importantly she’s out of the loop. Keeps her head in the books and cares a rats ass about faculty gossip. He tries to reason with himself as he finishes picking up the glass pieces. To add on he tries to tell himself that you have Jimin so why couldn’t he also have a friend to run to?

“Don’t worry, I was almost done.” You interrupt his thoughts. He watches as you grab the remote from his couch and pause the video. He swallows a fifth time watching as you stand up, bend down, and roll up your yoga mat to then rest it against the foot of his gray couch. He begins to panic when you move to his black marble coffee table that you’ve pushed to the side.

Quickly, almost as if his body was on autopilot he placed the glass shards he’s picked up onto the corner table and scurries to where you were ready to push the table to its rightful place. He too finds himself bending down, and somehow his eyes land right where the top of your breasts are peaking out. He can’t see much, you’re still modestly covered, but the little that he does see. He finds himself staring at before looking away as if he were being burned by the rays of the sun. He swallows two more times.

God, he’s really to send Raya—that’s her name—a text the minute he locks himself in his bedroom.

“It’s not that heavy Namjoon.” You point out as you lift up your side of the table. Namjoon follows in suit and the two of you move it the five inches to the middle so it’s back in its designated spot. “Thank you anyway.” You stand up dusting your hands, giving him an appreciative smile. It somehow worsens the sweat that has formed in between the crevices of his long fingers. As well as the beating in his heart.

He needs to get a fucking grip. Namjoon doesn’t want to admit that he wanted to help you because you’re right the coffee table is not as heavy as it looks. Otherwise how would you have moved it in the first place?

You walk past him, patting his shoulder along the way. He watches you make your way to the kitchen and he has to restrain himself from letting his eyes travel any lower than your upper back. He’s annoyed that he’s acting like a hormonal teenager rather than a full grown adult who has had plenty of sex in his lifetime.

“At what time do you get out of work tomorrow?” You ask moving through his kitchen like it’s familiar. As if you were doing this for months rather than just a day. He hates how satisfying it feels, and he finds himself sitting on one of his kitchen barstools.

You look through his cupboards with vigor, somehow knowing exactly where he keeps his plates, cups, and his pans. Well…your pans. He watches while you turn on the gas stove and wait a while for things to heat up and open up a tupperware full of leftover fried rice. He guesses it’s what you had made for dinner earlier in the night.

Namjoon feels his stomach twist. He is unsure if it’s a good thing but he realizes that he is getting nervous again because it’s finally settled in that tonight would be the first night you will actually be sharing a house. That tomorrow morning when he wakes up he will find you enjoying a cup of tea or coffee in his kitchen. That he will have to share a bathroom with you. And drive you to work and home. Repeat. Until it becomes too much of familiarity and one of you cuts the other off again.

Then he comes across his second? Third? Fourth? realization of the night and ignores your previously asked question. “How did you get home?

“Jungkook I called him knowing he was free today which worked out perfectly because your mother gave him some kimchi to give to us. So, I made kimchi fried rice for dinner with all of the leftovers in your fridge.” You nonchalantly shrug your shoulders, before plating his meal. “Which brings me back to my last question. What time do you get off tomorrow?” You move around the kitchen as Namjoon lets out the breath he didn’t know he was holding, and the green jealousy bubbling in the pit of his stomach disappears.

At least it wasn’t Jimin. He finds himself thinking. He shakes his head along with the thought away.

“Five tomorrow.” He finally answers when you set the plate out in front of him, along with a glass of water. “Why?”

“We need to go grocery shopping. Your fridge is practically empty, I used up all the ingredients that were going to go bad in the next few days.” You say sitting at the barstool in front of him and resting your chin on the palm of your hand. “Do you ever eat at home?”

Namjoon shakes his head, busying himself with his utensils before he takes a bite out of his food. A little part of him was hesitant because he knew you weren’t the best cook. Or worse you could poison him out of hatred. But he’s pleasantly surprised when the flavors instantly hit his tongue. It was delicious. Probably the best kimchi fried rice he’s ever had in his life. It almost seems impossible because this isn’t remotely a difficult dish to make. Yet, you’ve exceeded his expectations. He’s so enthralled with each bite that he forgets you’re still sitting in front of him.

“Do you like it?” You bite your lip in anticipation. When Namjoon looks up he fights the urge to reach over and tap your chin to get you to release your bottom lip. But he keeps himself grounded because he’s already crossed to many boundaries, and he doesn’t want you running back to Jimin.

Speaking of a boundary he shouldn’t cross but he still does, “Where did you spend the weekend?”

You push yourself back from the counter and release a sigh. “Jimins.” You look anywhere but him and it somehow annoys him.

“Your fuck buddy.” He stares blankly, setting down his fork. He could still eat more but you look mortified beyond belief and it makes his stomach churn.

Namjoon seems to just never learn.

You inhale deeply before responding, “I guess we should talk about that then.”

“No thanks I don’t care about who you’re fucking. It’s not like we’re exclusive, or steady or whatever we are.” He shrugs, proceeding to pick at his food with his fork. He really needs to shut up before he says something he knows he’ll regret later.

You roll your eyes, taking his glass of water and downing it in one go. He watches as a single droplet runs past your lips, down the side of your chin, and eventually your neck. He would’ve shamelessly continued to follow its path if you hadn’t slammed the cup onto the cloth coaster. It startles him and you look livid.

“I’m not fucking Jimin at least not anymore. We finally talked it out like civil adults and agreed we were better off as friends.” You spit out crossing your arms in front of you. “I know this is all fake, but the only way we will be able to keep up this act is if we both agree to not see anyone else. Otherwise that would create an even bigger mess than the one we have already.” You finish, and Nmajoon’s appetite is officially gone for the night.

Now, he feels guilty for even entertaining the idea of texting Raya. Only a little bit. There was some logic to what you were saying and he was being irrational earlier.

“I guess you’re right. I’m sorry for assuming.”

You have to blink a few times trying to process everything. This was rare. Namjoon was never known to be someone who apologizes unless he truly feels sorry. You almost leave the conversation at that, afraid that he will take it back the second you say someone he doesn’t want to hear again, but he speaks up, “How do you propose we from here then. I mean we are both humans with needs and if we can’t, you know…release those needs with each other because I don’t see you like…in that way and I’m assuming you don’t either, and it’s not part of the deal.” He breathes out before continuing. “What should we do then?” He finishes with a sigh, picking up his fork again, and waits for you to answer.

You’re caught off guard, the argument that was sitting at the back of your throat dies down. You didn’t expect him to admit defeat so early on. When the two of you were friends, the petty arguments you got into lasted for hours; but here he was showing you a different side of him, and you aren’t sure what to think of it yet.

“We will cross that line when we get there. For now I think we need to start small and just move on from our past. Maybe go on small friendship dates. Like the ones we used to go on every time I passed my tests.” You shrug. It was the only option that made sense. “It’s why I asked you when you get off work tomorrow. We can maybe go grocery shopping together. Start there.” You point out, watching as Namjoon goes back to eating your food.

It’s a weird feeling but watching him eat makes your heart feel a little warm. Back when you started living alone, you were an absolute mess in the kitchen. You burned your chicken to make sure it was thoroughly cooked for crying out loud. And after you set off the fire alarm one too many times, Jungkook decided to teach you all the easy ten minute recipes he learned on YouTube. This was one of the dishes you were the most confident in making. It also happened to be one of Namjoon’s favorites, and maybe that’s why you had made it. To soften the blow a little because you knew you were asking too much of him.

To you it seems like it had worked because he wasn’t nearly as angry as you assumed he would be. In fact he wasn’t angry at all.

Namjoon swallows his last spoonful and looked back at you. His face was blank but his next words completely went against the coldness hiding behind his eyes. “I’ll be in front of your office at five. I need to finish imputing a couple of grades into the system. And then we could head to the market together.” He nods firmly before standing up and picking up his plate, taking long strides to the dishwasher.

You watch him in silence while he put on the hot pink rubber gloves and grabbed the sponge, pumping a decent amount of soap on it. It was all so domestic and oddly comforting.

He was about to turn the hot water on when he stopped, placing his palms against the counter. He quickly turns to face you, his eyes find yours instantly and for the first time in a long time he did something he hasn’t done in years.

He smiles.

“Thank you for dinner. It was delicious.”

Your heart almost stops but you pushed away the butterflies erupting in the pit of your stomach. They weren’t real, they didn’t mean anything, Namjoon just has a smile that can light up worlds. So you ignored it and quickly responded “you’re welcome.” Before making your way to your room, so he couldn’t see your blushing cheeks. Or realize that he had made your heart start beating ten times faster than its usual rate. The closer you got to your room the faster you started to walk and before you knew it you had made it inside and closed the door behind you, resting your back against it and quietly releasing the little school girl squeal you were holding in.

God, you were pathetic.

Back in the kitchen, Namjoon is trying to occupy himself with the dishes. He can’t stop himself from giving into another realization. It seems like tonight he was full of them, but this one scared him the most.

Maybe he was at a crossroads and he had already unknowingly crossed the line because he was feeling something deep in his heart. Something he didn’t know he could possibly feel. Though that’s not what had initially scared him. He was scared of his fear and how it consumes him to the point that he talks himself out of situations. Just like it did all those years ago when you had confessed to him.

It’s something his pride and ego won’t ever let him admit.

Yet, deep down Namjoon knew better. The line had been crossed the minute he had entered Taehyung’s apartment. The minute he told you all about his plan. The minute he had placed his mothers engagement ring in the palm of your hand underneath his parents patio table.

The line had been crossed when he proposed to you. When he had asked you to move in with him and when he kissed you.

How does he come back from that?